Next Generation
by autumn6435
Summary: Sequel to The Cycle Continues. The young children of the legendary Dragon Riders enjoy a unique upbringing, which they endeavor to share with other youth in Alagaёsia as they grow older. But an elusive threat looms on the horizon. And when it finally arrives, the young Dragon Riders realize they've been prepared all along to face it and protect their ancient order from extinction.
1. Brom

**A/N:** Hello again! For anyone reading this who hasn't read my first story, _The Cycle Continues_ , it might not make much sense unless you do. _Next Generation_ is a sequel to that and builds on everything I created in my first book. _The Cycle Continues_ is an M-rated romance (and as such, I recognize that it doesn't appeal to everyone) set ten years after the end of _Inheritance_ that reunites Eragon and Arya, introduces several new Dragon Riders, and tells their love stories.

 _Next Generation_ is the story of those Dragon Riders' children, their upbringing, and the problem they are destined to solve. It's rated T (though later parts contain a few mature scenes, which I clearly mark for your information) and will probably feel more like Inheritance Cycle in terms of the action, adventure, and ages of my main characters once the conflict really begins to unfold. There will also still be some romance, of course, because this is me we're talking about here. :) And it seems pretty obvious, but I'll say it anyway: these characters are _all_ OCs (meaning created by me), since none of the Dragon Riders in Paolini's Inheritance Cycle had kids at the end of his series. There are scenes involving and/or mentions of IC characters (Eragon, Arya, Murtagh, Nasuada, Angela, Elva, Orik, etc), but the majority of the story will be about the kids I began introducing in the last half of _The Cycle_ _Continues_ , including the Epilogue.

I would love to hear what you think (positive or negative—I can't even begin to tell you how much better this story is now thanks to critical reader feedback) of the plot, characters, writing, story, etc. Just please keep it clean. I don't much care for profanity. In between updates to _Next Generation_ (sounds like Star Trek, huh?), you can go read _The Cycle Continues_ if you haven't already. That story is fully posted and _super_ long, so it should do a good job of filling your reading time if you like romances and don't have anything else to read. :) And if you are heading to do just that, the quickest way to find it would be to click on my username above (autumn6435) and scroll down to the list of my stories. Please do take the time to first read Chapter One of the listing entitled _The Cycle Continues_ , which briefly outlines some of the story's major themes so you understand what you're in for, before moving on to the actual four-part series (Part One is entitled _The Cycle Continues Part One: Reunited)_. I sure appreciate it!

Ok, A/N finished. Let the story begin!

* * *

 **FIVE**

 **1\. Brom**

Brom ran his hand over the leather-bound volume in his lap, tracing the gilded lettering on the cover.

 _Domia abr Wyrda_ , it stated in a bold script. Brom slid his fingers under the thick cover and slowly lifted, absently passing it from one hand to the other. He sat cross-legged on the large sofa in the living room of his family's quarters. They had once belonged only to his father, expanding as needed after his parents married and their family grew.

Two-year-old Zadí quietly played on the rug in front of the couch, surrounded by several dolls and small dragon figurines. These comprised her "tea party," and Brom's little sister spoke for each character in a different high-toned voice. Brom had very recently been a guest at Zadí's tea party but had excused himself only moments earlier so he could resume reading.

The sofa faced the large open area Saphira and Fírnen inhabited when their Riders were home. Several bookshelves and a desk off to one side—along with a dining table just beyond—formed a divide of sorts between the living room and kitchen area. A short distance behind the sofa ran a hallway to the bedrooms.

Zadí suddenly sprang to her feet with a doll in her arms and began swirling around on the carpet, holding the hem of her skirt—she insisted on always wearing the same shimmering green dress—in one hand.

"You're such a graceful dancer!" she complimented her doll, who was likewise clad in a sparkly dress.

"No, you are, Princess Zadí," Zadí demurred in a different voice, pretending to talk for her doll. His little sister's adorable antics brought her right back in front of Brom, and she bumped into his knee.

"Oops! Sorry, big brother!" she apologized, immediately followed by, "Brom, come dance with me!"

Brom often went along with her wishes, though Zadí's favorite dance partner was their father. But he was in a pensive mood right then, so Brom kindly declined, "Not right now, sweetie. Maybe Fírnen would like a performance."

"Yes!" Zadí squealed, twirling across the rug to continue her dancing in front of their mother's glittering emerald dragon, whose scales happened to match the dress Zadí wore.

Brom smiled to himself as he returned his gaze to the tome resting on his legs. The reassuring scent of old parchment and leather drifted up to his sensitive nose, one of many comforting smells in his familiar environment. A sweet aroma from Zadí's party goodies also reached him, along with Fírnen's distinctive earthy odor, which Zadí's playful spinning sent in his direction.

The handsome dragon coiled in his impression on the magically heated stone floor beside Saphira's vacant hollow, for the sapphire dragon had left that morning with Brom's father.

As if the Fírnen knew Brom's thoughts had momentarily been of him, he flicked his tail and curled up one side of his mouth. Turning an eye away from his enthusiastic entertainer, he asked, _Do you plan on reading it today, youngling? Or will you simply hold it again?_

Brom sensed the dragon's amusement and imitated Fírnen's expression by turning up a corner of his lip. _I have parts memorized. I like to hold it while I think about them. But maybe I will read._

The dragon squinted his eye in a teasing wink and returned his attention to Zadí as Brom let the cover fall open. He picked up a chunk of pages and pushed them over, licking his finger before turning the last several pages to the passage he sought. He lifted his finger and slid it along the text, slowing as he reached the paragraph he intended to read.

Brom's eyes followed the words he had just been reciting in his mind, but he paused when he heard a sound from behind him. He looked over his shoulder as his mother called from her room. "Yes, Mother?"

"What are you doing, darling?" Arya asked as she entered the spacious living area.

"Reading."

Arya smiled. "As usual. I have never known another five-year-old who loved reading as much as you. What are you reading?"

"The Dominance of Fate. The parts about when you and father defeated Galbatorix. Those chapters that Jeod added are my favorites."

"But you have heard the story so many times," Arya reminded, walking around the sofa and seating herself next to Brom. "Is there more in the written account that Father and I haven't shared? We ought to know the details fairly well. We _were_ there, after all."

"No, Mother," Brom said, returning her smile as he leaned into her side. "I'd much rather hear the story from you. But this time I thought of some new questions." Brom's mother was expecting her third child, and the baby moved as he patted her belly.

Zadí skipped and leaped her way back to the sofa and climbed up to Arya's other side, placing her small hand next to Brom's. "Hi, Mama!" she breathlessly greeted. "I was dancing for Fírnen! He said I'm as graceful as the elves! The baby is getting so big!" Though only two and a half, she could speak as well as Brom had at her age.

"Hello, Zadí," Arya replied. "Fírnen told me you performed a lovely dance for him. And the baby certainly is big, isn't it?"

"Will it be born soon?" Brom asked.

"Any day now," Arya confirmed. As the surface of her round belly tightened under their hands, she added, "Do you feel that?" They both nodded. "My body is already preparing for the birth."

"Are you worried anything bad will happen like at my birth?" Brom wondered.

"There is nothing to worry me like there was then. And though having you stillborn was the hardest experience of my life, the miracle that followed was the most powerful lesson I have ever learned. Every time I look at you I am reminded of the importance of faith."

Brom nodded solemnly. His mother and father had repeatedly taught him about having faith.

"Do you hope it will be another sister?" his mother questioned. "Or would you like a younger brother?"

"Either," Brom said. "Zadí is so sweet. I can only imagine another sister being just the same. But I think I'd also really like a brother."

"Your father would be pleased to hear you say that. We are both grateful you're such a caring boy."

"Thank you. Where is Father teaching this morning?"

"At the training fields. Would you like to go visit him?"

"Yes!" Brom exclaimed, shutting the heavy book in his lap.

"May I go?" Zadí pleaded.

"I think you had best stay here and take your nap," Arya suggested. "We can go together later. Brom, would you like to discuss your questions now or at another time?"

"Now is fine. I've been thinking about the name of the ancient language. It seems to make any magician powerless if used as Galbatorix did. Are Father and Uncle Murtagh the only two who know the name?"

"The only two I am aware of. Father has never even told me, and I agree with him that very few people should know it. Is that the only thing bothering you?"

"Couldn't other people learn it if Galbatorix did?"

"Yes, it's certainly possible, but the name of the ancient language only controls verbal magic. Very skilled magicians are able to cast spells without words. The danger lies in losing your focus and creating an entirely different outcome than what you originally intended. You have often performed magic without speaking. I can also do that, as can Father. And, as I'm sure you remember, it was also the way Father ultimately defeated Galbatorix. But it is wise to use words to convey your meaning whenever possible to avoid accidentally harming others."

Brom nodded. "Are there always loopholes like that to powerful magic? What if someone else discovered a way to severely restrict someone's abilities? Like with the Dragon Riders? It almost seems unfair that they learn to be such skilled fighters and magicians. And their dragon's strength and fire gives them an even greater advantage compared to a normal person."

His mother regarded him gravely. "You have thought about this at length, haven't you?"

"Yes. What if another Rider turned bad like Galbatorix? What if someone immoral learned the name of the ancient language and began controlling people like Galbatorix meant to? The Dragon Riders of old weren't able to stop those who stood against them. Would the new Dragon Riders?"

"That's a good question. I don't know. Father and I won't soon forget what we learned during the war and our confrontation with Galbatorix. And though new Riders are constantly joining us, Father will always be the most Senior Rider. Do you doubt that he will lead us in the right direction?"

"No," Brom quickly denied. "I know Father will always choose the right course. It just seems like someone out there might get jealous of the Dragon Riders and all of their abilities. Someone who'd like to remove them as a possible threat. What if someone found a way—like Galbatorix did with the name of the ancient language—to take away the Riders' abilities?"

"You certainly _do_ contemplate very weighty matters for a five-year-old, Brom," Arya observed as she ruffled his curly black hair. "But I'm not surprised. You have always been very thoughtful and serious. I'm impressed you have pondered such topics. If what you suggested happened, I suppose we would have to have faith that a loophole existed. Something that would enable the Riders to continue fulfilling their purpose in the land."

"That's another thing," Brom went on. "Sometimes faith produces amazing miracles, such as when I or Uncle Varhog was restored to life. But other times, it seems like those in the heavens do nothing but look on and watch. Why?"

"I don't know all the answers, darling. But perhaps we are strong enough at times to make the miracles happen ourselves, as was the case when your father and I faced Galbatorix or when Aunt Willow and Uncle Varhog faced King Kulkarvek. In those situations, we all triumphed over evil without divine assistance, at least not in the sense you are thinking. Perhaps it's just as important for us to have faith in our own abilities. Then, if we feel true hopelessness after doing all we can, we can still trust that something stronger will carry us through a while longer. But we must not always expect heavenly beings to come rushing to our aid when all seems lost. We may be required to pass through very difficult trials before we find relief, and they are always to help us grow stronger and become better."

"Yes, I believe that." Brom looked down at Zadí, who hadn't followed his conversation with their mother, and smiled. "She's already asleep. May I go visit Father now? Then you could nap with Zadí."

"That would be welcome," his mother admitted. "Will and Var are sure to be there with Uncle Varhog, since Aunt Willow also needs to rest during the day. But she's having two babies again, and growing one baby is hard enough."

"Will and Var hope the new twins will be born on their birthday and that they'll be sisters. They're kind of jealous that Nefin, Keeta, Brin, and I all got siblings before them."

Arya laughed. "There's not much they could do about it, I suppose. But now they will catch up again since their mother is having two at once. They will each always have one to hold."

"Yes, that's just what they said!"

"Go ahead then, darling. I know you'll be careful. Would you take your father a snack?"

"I'd be glad to," Brom said, sliding the large book off his lap as he hopped up. He grabbed some fruit and bread from the kitchen, then walked over to Fírnen. The dragon helped him reach the high seat on his shoulders by lifting Brom—who hung on around his snout—and lowering him down after craning his neck around.

"Don't worry, Mother," Brom reassured when he noticed the look of concern on her face.

"I know I needn't since that's how you have always mounted the dragons. But I still do."

Brom grinned, and Fírnen stood, using his head to nudge open the enormous double-doors that swung into the vast hallway outside their quarters. As the green dragon left, Brom turned and waved at his mother. Then Fírnen used his tail to close the doors behind him and they were on their way.

* * *

 **A/N:** In these first dozen or so chapters, I'll gradually fill in the events I mentioned in the epilogue of _The Cycle Continues,_ in about five year intervals (that's what the FIVE at the top means). This will give you some insight into the kind of life these kids had and their friendships, while slowly building up the conflict.


	2. On Father's Knee

**A/N:** A thoughtful reader inspired me to modify the first several chapters of this story because their instinctive reaction was, "What the heck?" (with a more colorful word, of course ;). I even incorporated their suggestion for the setting of this scene. I realize that many people reading this might not have read _The Cycle Continues_ (which contains content more similar to what this chapter once did), and you might be sampling my story to decide whether or not to continue. With that possibility in mind, I wanted to reduce the likelihood that other new readers would have the same reaction. Chapter Two (this chapter) was originally a much longer portrayal of Eragon and Arya's family life, along with a detailed description of their third child's birth, a heavenly visitation, and a discussion of reproduction. This current version is all that remains. Hope it helps!

* * *

 **2\. On Father's Knee**

Eragon and Arya's third baby—another son—was born later that same night. Brom and Zadí witnessed their brother's gentle arrival and were thrilled by Eragon's suggestion to name the new boy Evandar after Arya's father.

Several weeks later, Brom lay awake in his bed thinking about his sixth birthday the following day. A strange dream had interrupted his slumber, and when it became clear that he wouldn't soon fall back to sleep, Brom left his room in search of his father.

Brom found Eragon in his study, cradling tiny Evan—which nickname Brom had thought up—on his chest as he gazed into the embers of a dwindling fire. Saphira had managed to fit her head and neck through the larger-than-average doorway and was curled around the back of the cushioned armchair with her head resting alongside it. Brom imagined the dragon was conversing with her Rider, and he hoped an interruption would not be unwelcome.

"Father?" Brom quietly called from the doorway.

Eragon glanced over and smiled, and Brom knew his father had been aware of his presence. "Come in, Brom. Couldn't you sleep?"

Brom quickly padded across the floor to his father's chair after hurdling the obstacle presented by Saphira's neck. "I could at first, but I woke up after an odd dream and kept thinking about other things."

"Sit with me and Evan," Eragon invited, patting one leg. "Mother just fed him, so I offered to hold him while she tries to get some rest."

"Caring for a new baby seems like hard work," Brom observed, climbing onto his father's knee and peering into Evan's face.

"It is, especially for Mother, but these peaceful moments are some of my fondest memories. Once they're past, I always miss the early days when the new baby is so small. But tell me what's troubling you. Have you thought of what you want for your birthday yet? Mother and I would like to do something special for you."

Brom took in a long breath and slowly let it out. "I think I finally figured out what I want. You know how you always tell me the story of my birth? And what happened the next day with Angela?"

Eragon nodded and pulled Brom closer so he could lean in next to the baby.

"Well, was she short? Did she have curly dark hair and a cheerful smile? And a mysterious twinkle in her eye?"

"Yes, Brom," Eragon confirmed in surprise. "How did you know that? I don't recall sharing much about her appearance."

"No, I don't think you have. I saw her in a dream just now, and she gave me some counsel. She said I needed to learn how use magic without speaking words. I've sometimes done it by accident, but she advised me to carefully practice until I could control it. I wonder if it had anything to do with the conversation Mother and I had a few weeks ago."

"How interesting. Maybe the two _are_ related. And this has something to do with your birthday request?"

"I just wondered if I might begin having magic lessons with the elves."

"I have no problem with that," his father said. "I can't imagine Mother would either. Perhaps we can bring it up at breakfast in the morning."

"Thank you, Father." Brom studied Evan's little face and smiled in delight when a big grin parted the baby's lips while he slept. Eragon also noticed the sweet expression and the unexpected accompanying giggle.

"That's another of my favorite things," he remarked. "Those sleeping grins and giggles. I always wonder what the baby might be dreaming of."

"It must be something happy," Brom decided. "Maybe the place he came from was wonderful and he's dreaming of people he knew there."

"I like that idea," Eragon approved.

Brom's face twisted thoughtfully as he remembered another of his sleepless ponderings. "Father, when Evan was born and Zadí, Mother, and I saw Evandar and Islanzadí, why couldn't you?" Brom referred to the miraculous experience following the baby's birth when his elven grandmother and grandfather had appeared in the room.

Eragon rubbed his beard as he considered Brom's question. "I don't exactly know. But it may have been simply because I didn't have the same strong desire as Mother. And you children have always been very believing. Or maybe they only wanted you three to see them."

"It would be nice if you someday got to see your father and mother, just like Mother did. You never even met your mother."

"You're right. I didn't. But your grandfather was a courageous, selfless man. I'm proud to now have two sons named after such good men. You and Evan can carry on their legacies."

"I hope so. I've been thinking about something else, Father."

"What's that?" Eragon asked, shifting slightly in the chair as the baby reached two tiny fists straight up and arched his back in a mighty stretch. Since he was curled into a tight ball with his feet tucked under him, his bottom stuck out in an exaggerated manner. Eragon smiled and murmured, "All is well, little one."

Brom reached over and patted Evan's head as he questioned, "Where did the baby come from? I mean, how did he get inside Mother?"

Saphira lifted her head and cracked open an eye to scrutinize her Rider, which made him smile.

 _I have often wondered how you would address this question, little one,_ the dragon said. _Now I shall have the opportunity to see._

"What does she mean, Father?"

Still smiling, Eragon replied, "Saphira once shared with me and Mother her opinion on this matter. As you know, dragons are very forward in their mating practices, and Saphira finds it rather unfortunate that many humans don't learn about such things until they are older. And when they do, the subject is often treated as inappropriate or shameful."

"Why?" Brom curiously wondered.

So his father patiently explained the answer to his question—and the others that followed—including why some viewed it as an awkward topic. When finished, Brom had a basic and innocent understanding that satisfied his inquisitive mind.

"It doesn't seem inappropriate," Brom said. "But maybe because you answered honestly without any awkwardness yourself."

"Saphira helped me see that this approach is healthier when it comes to such things."

 _Well done, little one,_ Saphira praised, her eyelids clicking as she blinked drowsily. Eragon reached out and rested his hand on the bridge of her snout.

"Well, Saphira is clearly ready to get some sleep. Are you also ready to return to bed? If you are to begin magic lessons tomorrow, you will want to be well rested."

Before he could answer, Brom let out a huge yawn. Then he smiled sheepishly. "I guess I am really tired. I'm grateful I could talk to you."

Eragon smiled and gave him a hug. "As am I, son. My father never had this chance with me, and I'm always thankful that I get to be a part of your life. Let's get you a drink of water and I'll take you back to bed."

As Saphira raised her head to snake it out of the study, Eragon stood with both sons in his arms and carried Brom back to his bedroom after making a brief stop in the kitchen. Snugly tucked in with a kiss on his forehead, Brom peacefully returned to his dreams.

-:-:-:-


	3. Birthday Dreams

**3\. Birthday Dreams**

On the morning of Brom's sixth birthday, Will and Var found him waiting at the entrance to the Cave of the Eldunarí.

"Brom!" Will breathlessly cried, coming to an abrupt stop right in front of his friend.

"Happy birthday!" Var finished.

"Thanks," Brom said with a happy smile.

"What are you doing way over here?" Will wondered.

"Waiting for Blödhgarm," Brom simply said.

"Why?" Var asked.

"This morning I woke up after a strange dream," Brom began. "In the dream I was visited by a woman who told me her name was Angela. I recognized the name from the stories mother and father tell me, and she said she was the same lady. But she gave me some very specific advice and it seemed really important. She told me I should learn to use magic without speaking the ancient language, so just by using my mind. She said she would visit me again and then left."

Will and Var stared at him with wide eyes. "Wow," Will breathed. "But why would she tell you to do that? Isn't it dangerous?"

"I've been told it is," Brom said. "Unless you can learn to be very focused on what you're thinking. I don't know why she told me, but it really did feel important. Mother and father had asked me if I wanted anything special for my birthday, and I told them I'd think about it. I still hadn't come up with anything by last night. I kept telling them that having a new baby brother was the best present they could give me. But after that dream, I talked with my father. He and mother agreed to let me have special magic lessons with the elves."

"Do you think we could come along?" Var hopefully requested. "I'm really curious about magic. You can already use it since your mother's an elf, but Will and I will probably only ever be able to if we become Dragon Riders."

"I guess we can ask Blödhgarm," Brom said. "Here he comes now."

The wolf-like elf readily consented, so Brom began his formal magical training with Blödhgarm in the Cave of the Eldunarí, while his two best friends eagerly observed.

-:-:-

Since Will and Var's mother wanted to be in the Urgal village near Lake Fläm for the birth of her babies, their family—along with Brom and his family—returned to Alagaёsia only a few days after Brom's first magic lesson. The trip from the Isle was fun for the boys. Their mother's pregnancy made her large and awkward, so she allowed them to ride alone together on Sunset while their father helped her on Black Thunder. Flying on a dragon came as naturally to the twins as it did to all of the Dragon Riders' children, and they were thrilled to ride without their parents.

Sunset flew very cautiously, much to their disappointment, for they urged her to be daring and creative. But their mother's wishes seemed more important to the dragon, and she carefully transported her young cargo from one location to the next.

As the twins' birthday drew nearer, the high queen of Alagaёsia—whom they knew as Auntie Nasuada—and her family also came to the Bolvek village for a short visit, since her oldest daughter was born on the same day as the twins. Var and Will were the best of friends with Lena and her younger brother Ajihad—whom they all called Ajh for short—just as they were with Brom and Zadí, Brin and Ginnee, Nefin, and Keeta. Brin and Ginnee were the twins' real cousins, since their mother Breetuk was Varhog's youngest sister. Nefin was Hanin and Maehrí's oldest son, while Keeta was Knilf and Greta's oldest daughter. They all considered themselves cousins, though the twins knew some of them weren't their _actual_ cousins, like Brin and Ginnee were.

Every passing day brought Will and Var closer their own birthday, as well as to the time when their mother would have her babies. The twins were elated that they would finally get the younger siblings all of their closest friends had already received.

When they awakened on the morning of their birthday, Will was the first to speak. "Var, I dreamed about Angela last night."

"Me too! She told me something important, just like she did Brom. And you were in my dream. Did she tell you to learn how to build a ship?"

"Yes!" Will exclaimed. "Exactly! And that I needed to become an expert on the ocean and how to navigate it."

"How strange. Why is she visiting us in dreams and giving us these instructions?"

"I don't know. Let's go tell mother and father."

So they hopped up and headed to their parents' bedroom. Their mother was still in bed, and they could hear their father in the kitchen. Delicious smells wafted down the hallway.

"Father's making breakfast for mother again," Var quietly said as they each snuggled up next to their mother.

Willow stirred and murmured, "Good morning, boys. Happy birthday. Thank you for coming to see me."

"How are you feeling, mother?" Will asked.

Willow stretched and awkwardly shifted up against the pillows. Her great belly filled her lap, and the twins each sidled up next to her and rubbed it. "Wonderful, Will," she replied. "I think you might get your secret birthday wish. These babies will probably be born today."

The twins grinned in delight, and Var cried, "That's so exciting!"

Just then their father walked into the room bearing a large tray heavily laden with an assortment of breakfast foods.

Varhog smiled at his family. "Good morning, Will and Var. Happy birthday, sons. I hoped you would come in here. I made this for you as much as for mother. Grandma and grandpa had the bacon and gave me some yesterday. They knew it was one of your favorites and that you also don't get any on the Isle."

"Mmm!" Will eagerly said. "Thanks, father. It smells so good!"

They all ate together for a time, chatting of this and that. The boys noticed their father often look at their mother, and their mother paused at frequent intervals to close her eyes and breathe deeply.

"They're getting closer," Varhog observed at one point.

"Yes," Willow confirmed. She seemed to notice the boys' curious expressions, so she added, "The tightening of my womb as it opens is happening more regularly, which is a sign that the babies will soon be born."

The twins smiled again, but Var—who had always been slightly more thoughtful and serious—said, "Mother, we woke up this morning after each having a strange dream." He and Will took turns explaining their visions of Angela, including her odd advice and that Brom had experienced the same thing on his birthday.

Willow and Varhog were surprised by this account, which their sons clearly saw.

"Do you know what it might mean, father?" Var asked.

"I don't, son," Varhog said. "I can't even guess. It does seem very strange. But we learned from Angela's parents that beings from that realm will sometimes influence events down here in order to prepare certain people for important duties, such as with Eragon and Arya or me and mother. Perhaps the same thing is happening with you children. But none of us had experiences like this."

The conversation ended then when their mother insisted on notifying her birth attendants that they had best come over. Their father performed the scrying spells, and within a matter of ten minutes, the same number of people had joined the twins in their hut—all of Uncle Eragon's family, all of Uncle Murtagh's family, and their grandmother Myrintuk. Their uncles kept all of the children except Lena outside while the women and young girl went into the bedroom.

As soon as Lena entered the room, Will sprang off the bed, closely followed by Var. "Happy birthday, Lena!" Will cheerfully greeted. He gave her a big hug, which she returned with a delighted giggle.

"Thanks, Will," she breathlessly accepted as he squeezed her slight form with precocious strength. He finally let her go, but Var repeated the gesture right after him. "You two need to be careful not to break me in half!" Lena teased once Var set her down. "You're already so strong."

Will and Var laughed. Then Will enthusiastically shared, "Mother's going to have the babies on our birthday! It will be the best birthday present ever!"

"It _is_ really exciting," Lena agreed.

"Lena, did you have any odd dreams last night?" Will suddenly wondered. "Var and I each did, and the same thing happened with Brom on his birthday."

The three children noticed that all of the adults in the room looked over at this, even their mother, who seemed to be relaxing at the moment.

Lena's face grew serious. "I actually did. I dreamed about Angela. She told me to train my mind, to learn how to reason and solve difficult problems."

The adults exchanged troubled glances, but no one dwelt on it any longer because they had to focus on Willow for the next little while.

As the first baby slowly made its appearance, the twins watched in cautious wonder, reassured they needn't worry for their mother by her comforting words.

"This is its head," Auntie Arya informed. "Var, when you were born, your head didn't come out first, which is the easiest and best way for a baby to be born. Do you know what part came first?"

Var colored and stayed silent while Will grinned. Var knew, but he was too embarrassed to say, so Will blurted, "His bottom," and everyone laughed. "My feet came first, and I've been running ever since," he proudly added, quoting a joke he often heard his parents make.

The laughter continued only a moment longer because the rest of the baby soon followed its head, and the twins' father announced, "A daughter! Willow, now we will have two daughters!" A huge grin split his face, and the twins clapped as the baby girl let out a healthy cry.

Their mother laughed softly as she rested against their father, who brought the baby up above her large belly so she could see her new daughter. Willow reached out and gently stroked her newborn.

"Hello, precious," she whispered as tears filled her eyes. "I'm so happy to be aware of this moment. That felt almost pleasant compared to how I remember your older brother's arrival into this world. But the memories are dim and that is the only one I can vaguely recall. Now we will meet your sister. Varhog, it's so amazing! Two at once all over again! But I'll remember the rest this time, and you will finally get your two small Willows." She turned her face toward their father, who tenderly kissed her cheek.

Within a few minutes the second baby was born, and Will whispered to Var, "Mother's tummy looks so saggy." He guiltily bit his lip when his mother looked over with a tired smile. "Sorry, mother," he muttered.

"It's all right, Will," his mother dismissed with a laugh. "You're absolutely right."

For the next several minutes, Willow and Varhog resituated themselves on the bed until she was comfortable, while Auntie Arya and Grandma Myrintuk cleaned up. Then the new babies enjoyed their first meal in their mother's arms.

Will commented, "Mother, it looks just like the fairth of our birthday. The babies are nursing and holding hands, your arms are around them, and father's arms are surrounding everyone."

"Like hearts," Var added. "I still remember nursing like that. But we didn't fit like the babies do now."

Willow lifted her gaze away from the new twins. "Happy birthday, boys. I was hoping these babies would be born by today. I know how excited you've been. It seems they knew just what would make their older brothers' sixth birthday better than any other. Come over and see them closer. Aren't they precious?"

The boys crawled back onto the bed, each leaning over one of their sisters to peer into scrunched up faces. "They look kind of funny to me," Will honestly admitted, and his parents laughed.

"Yes," Var agreed. "They're all red and wrinkly. And squished looking."

Willow laughed again. "That's how most newborns look. They've been soaking in a warm bath for nine months. You'd be wrinkly too! And they had to squeeze through a narrow opening just now. Don't worry, their appearance will improve very quickly."

"But they _are_ precious, mother," Will earnestly said. "So beautiful." He gently brushed his fingertips along the dark hair of the baby below his face. "You were born first, little sister. Will she be Willow, mother? Or Monrow?"

"Willow," their father firmly answered. "Firstborn daughter named after her mother."

"That's just what I said after Var and Will were born," Willow remembered.

"Yes, Eartheyes. And what do you think of this experience, since you were aware the whole time?"

"It was indescribable, Varhog. I'm overjoyed. I feel so blessed to have you and our sons," she looked at Will and Var with a beautiful smile on her face, "and now these two healthy daughters. I will treasure these memories forever."

Will and Var glanced at each other and silently agreed that they would also always remember the experiences of their sixth birthday.

* * *

 **A/N:** I know this birth scene might potentially turn some readers off (I tried to make it even more innocent than before), but I wanted to portray what I truly believe a normal birth would look like as redemptive measure for the dangerous, high-risk births my main female protagonists experience in _The Cycle Continues._ The only birth I wrote that way in _The Cycle Continues_ was Myrin's birth in Part Two, but I didn't want the negative to outweigh the positive.

In some parts of the world, childbirth is viewed as an inherently dangerous affair that should preferably take place in a hospital with only trained medical professionals in attendance. I have a different opinion. My oldest son (who is currently nine) witnessed the births of his three younger brothers, who were all born at home. My second son (age seven) witnessed the births of the two youngest (who are three and a few months old). My three peaceful homebirths were some of the greatest experiences of my life.

If there's one thing I hope readers might learn from me, it would be that childbirth is amazing and miraculous and should not be feared! With proper preparation, education, and caring for your health, pregnancy and childbirth can and most likely _will_ be the crowning achievement of a woman's (and hopefully her husband's) life. And having my family, including my children, present for the births was such a wonderful gift. I think it definitely gives my sons a unique and realistic perspective about the whole business that many of their peers will (regrettably) never receive.


	4. Memories

**TEN**

 **4\. Memories**

By the time Will and Var were nearly ten, and Willow Jr. and Monrow were almost four, their mother was expecting again. But rather than return to their home in the Bolvek village, their parents had decided to have this baby—for it was only one this time—on the Isle of the Eldunarí.

One morning as these five were gathered in their living quarters off the Great Hall, Will—who was playing dolls with his younger sister Willow—looked up as his mother walked into the room with a large basketful of laundry perched awkwardly on her hip. He immediately sprang up and took it from her.

"Here, mother," he offered. "Let me get that for you. Is it already clean?"

"Yes, honey," Willow said. "Father washed it last night. And thank you." She stretched her hips by placing both of her hands on the small of her back and pushing forward.

Will took the laundry to the sofa and set it down in front of him as he sat. "Come on, Willow," he said to his younger sister. "Let's help mother fold this and put it away." Willow Jr. jumped up and sat by her brother. As he made his way through the laundry, he handed her socks and told her to match them together.

"Look how big dada's are," Willow Jr. said with a giggle. The sock she held was as long as her arm.

Will chuckled as he looked up. "Yes, honey. Dada's feet are really big because he's so tall."

Var was similarly engaged with his younger sister Monrow, playing tea party at a small table near the children's toys. When their mother turned to head into the kitchen, saying something about making a snack, Var likewise arose and went after her.

"Mother, you go sit down," he insisted. "Monrow and I will make the snack. Will father be coming back from the training fields to eat with us?"

Willow smiled gratefully at her son. "Yes, sweetie, he will. And he will be pleased to hear how thoughtful and helpful you boys have been this morning." She retraced her steps back to the living area, which was open to the kitchen, and sat on the sofa next to Willow Jr.

Var said to Monrow, "What shall we make? We need to make lots so dada will get full."

"Dada never gets full," Monrow said in her sweet, high-toned voice.

Var laughed. "That's true, sweetie. Maybe we should make some sandwiches. And plenty of fruits and vegetables to go with the nut dip. It won't keep him full for long, but it's better than nothing."

"How about some hardboiled eggs?" Monrow suggested. "Mama says that always helps."

"Great idea, Monrow," Var agreed. So they set to work preparing the food.

As they did, Will said to their mother, "Mother, tell us a story. One we haven't ever heard about your time on the Isle when you and father were still only friends."

Willow laughed. "All right, honey. Let me think a moment about what I could tell you." She rubbed her swollen belly as the baby inside stretched. "I think I have one you'll all enjoy. It was so funny, and I know how you like the funny ones. After I arrived, Uncle Knilf and father became better friends—before that they hated each other—but for a time there was still an unspoken rivalry as all of the men tried to prove who was the fastest, strongest, or best with a sword or a bow or an axe. They were constantly trying to determine these things through competitions with one another.

"So one day the elves decided to make an obstacle course to test our physical abilities. It had nothing to do with magic. They simply wanted to give us an opportunity to determine who could make it through their challenges the quickest. The obstacles were designed to test our speed, agility, stamina, courage, strength, and hand-to-hand fighting skills. No weapons were allowed.

"The elves designed their obstacle course and allowed us all to examine it before we began the competition. It started off with a gauntlet run, where the elves had built many contraptions with swinging clubs and mechanical levers to thrust plates and cudgels of all shapes and sizes out at us from every direction as we passed through. None of these had sharp edges, so if we misjudged and got hit, it only resulted in a bruise rather than a cut.

"The next phase of the obstacle course was a sheer climbing wall with very few hand or footholds. We had to scale the wall and descend the other side. There really were no rules for the game but to get through. If we injured ourselves enough that we couldn't continue—by dropping from the other side of the wall all the way to the ground and breaking our legs, for example—we were simply disqualified for not finishing.

"At the bottom of the wall was a patch of thick, tarry mud. If we climbed down the wall, we had to sludge through the mud to the next challenge. Or there was an alternative at the top of the wall that would potentially allow us to save some time and avoid getting filthy. It was a taut rope stretched out to another wall some distance away that we could attempt to cross over, whether by walking on it while maintaining our balance or by pulling ourselves along it hand over hand.

"On the other side of the second wall was Lake Arya. If we crossed over using the rope, we could simply dive off into the water, for the next task was swimming across the lake to test our endurance. But if we were in the mud, we had to scale the second wall before beginning the swim.

"After the swim, we had to run back around the lake to where the others were waiting and crawl through a series of small hoops lined up in a row. Since we weren't allowed to use magic, we had to do this while dripping wet and exhausted. And the hoops were placed in the same thick, tarry mud that was between the two walls, so there was no avoiding it this time. We knew we would all get filthy at that point.

"We faced the final challenge upon emerging from the hoops. Blödhgarm had made himself into the likeness of a huge bear. We had to somehow pass the bear to reach the finish line, but again, there were no rules as to how to accomplish that. Once we were past the bear, we were finished.

"All of the men—Uncle Eragon, Uncle Murtagh, father, and Uncle Knilf—were full of anticipation at the opportunity to test themselves and compete with one another. I thought they were all ridiculous, but I too was expected to take part in this contest as one of the Dragon Riders.

"Always gentlemen, they all insisted I go first. I secretly think they simply wanted to see someone pass through the obstacle course to improve their own performances. This happened while I was still sixteen, before Uncle Hanin had even arrived on the Isle.

"There was nothing for me to do but go and do my best. I was smaller than any of them save Knilf, but I was much slenderer than he, so I made it through the gauntlet run rather easily. We could use any of our Rider abilities besides magic, so I simply entered my fighting mind the entire duration of the course and it was especially helpful while running the gauntlet. The increased awareness allowed me to anticipate each threat and hurriedly dodge and duck my way through.

"The climbing wall was slightly more difficult for me because the hand and footholds were quite far apart. There were some tiny lips and ledges in the wall that were there to help, I suppose. I could barely fit my fingertips on some of them, and I had to briefly support my whole weight on my fingertips while reaching for the next hold. But I soon made it up the wall.

"Once at the top, I immediately knew I wanted to avoid the mud, so I determinedly made my way out onto the rope, first intending to walk across it. I made it about halfway, but when I took my focus off the rope for the shortest second, I lost my balance. Fortunately, I was able to catch the rope with my hands as I fell, and I swiftly swung the rest of the way to the second wall and pulled myself up.

"I've always been defiant, and I wanted to show all those men that I wasn't weak or cowardly just because I was the only girl and the youngest. So I dove straight into the water and began swimming as fast as I could across the lake. It was very tiring, but I pulled myself out and began running back around toward the final two challenges.

"I was small enough that I could crawl through the hoops on my hands and knees, and this I did as rapidly as I could, given how tired I was and how difficult it was to maneuver through the mud. I stayed in the last hoop for a few seconds to catch my breath and prepare to face the bear. I already knew my only hope of triumphing in the last stage was by using the same method I had learned while fighting father. I didn't think I would be able to get around Blödhgarm quickly enough to reach the finish line without getting caught. As an elf he was much faster than father.

"So I exited the last hoop ready to pounce on his back, and I was able to do so on his first attack. As soon as the bear dropped to the ground under the effects of my stranglehold, I released my grip and dashed across the finish line. All of my brothers were duly impressed that I had not only finished, but gotten through so speedily. It took me about half an hour.

"After me they went in order of seniority, which meant Uncle Eragon was up next. With the grace and agility of the elves, he did amazingly through the first several challenges. The gauntlet was very easy for him, but since he was bigger than me, he had to be more careful not to get swiped by one of the cudgels. At the wall he simply jumped up in one leap to catch the top edge and pull himself up. He walked across the rope in mere seconds with nary a wavering of his balance.

"He swam across the lake very fast and ran back around as swiftly as the wind. But he was too big to crawl through the hoops on his hands and knees and the mud sucked at his whole body as he struggled to squirm through on his belly. He lost a lot of time there. He had chosen to perform the obstacle course without a shirt on—he rarely wore a shirt in those days since he was always so miserably hot—and that decision proved unwise once he finally made it through the hoops to confront the Blödhgarm bear.

"I was in my usual leather riding clothes, complete with leather gauntlets over my arms, which had protected me from the swiping claws of the bear as he attempted to remove me from his back. But Uncle Eragon was bare-skinned and we weren't allowed to protect ourselves in any way with magic, not even with wards. He was able to dodge the bear very easily, just as I did, but the bear was about seven feet tall and incredibly strong. Eragon tried to wrestle him to the ground, but he soon saw that wouldn't work and got himself some nasty cuts in the process. So he then tried to just run around the bear, but since it was Blödhgarm controlling the bear, he was just as fast as Eragon and intercepted him before he could reach the finish line. Then Eragon tried my method and finally succeeded in subduing the bear long enough to reach the finish line. But his arms got cut to pieces in the process, since the bear was able to use his claws on Eragon's bare arms.

"The other elves immediately healed him once he was finished, but his lost time through the hoops and fighting the bear actually made him slower overall than I was, which shocked me.

"Uncle Murtagh learned several things from watching Eragon. Though he didn't have the same elf-like abilities as Eragon, he still had Rider abilities, and he was much stronger than I, so he made it through the gauntlet and up the wall without any difficulties. Rather than try to walk across the rope, Murtagh simply crouched down and grabbed it with his hands. Then he swiftly swung himself across hand over hand.

"He swam across the lake as fast as Eragon and ran back quickly—faster than I did, but slower than Eragon. He too had to shimmy through the hoops on his belly, which was easier fully clothed than it had been for Eragon bare-chested. And he immediately subdued the bear as I had done, with his arms protected from the slashing claws by leather gauntlets. As a result, his time was shorter than Eragon's, which provided him endless gratification, as I'm sure you can imagine. Murtagh and Eragon were always engaging in friendly sibling rivalry. So Murtagh was in the lead at that point, because he finished faster than I.

"Anyway, father went next. He was easily the strongest Rider—well he still is, actually—but he was also the biggest. The gauntlet run was far harder for him as a result. He was hit several times, but it really didn't do much to slow or hurt him. He's so tall that it wasn't difficult for him to reach the top of the wall by jumping, as Eragon had. He tried to cross the rope by walking across it, but his balance wasn't as good as Eragon's and he slipped partway over. He caught the rope—as I had—while falling, but the momentum of his falling weight was too much for the rope to support and it snapped.

"It was so funny watching him crash into the mud below. And though it was very thick mud, it still splashed as he hit it. He sank deeply into it because of how heavy he is, so it was very difficult for him to sludge his way through to the wall. He made it of course, and he climbed this wall more slowly because of how slick his hands and feet were when covered with mud. By then I was laughing so hard I could barely breathe.

"I think he was grateful to jump into the lake, since it rinsed off all the muck. Father told me after that he was sure the elves had mixed some of the animal manure into it as a mean joke. I didn't think the mud under the hoops smelled like that, so maybe it was only between the walls. Or maybe father only made it up. At any rate, he swam across the lake and ran back around very easily. But he once again ran into problems upon reaching the hoops. He was too big to fit through them, even on his belly. His shoulders were too broad.

"All of us were laughing by then, but no one more than I. He finally ended up ripping the hoops open so he could fit through them because the elves wouldn't let him crawl on top of them. He was so angry by the time he faced the bear that he immediately slammed it to the ground. He was more used to hand-to-hand fighting and also better at it with an opponent his own size than any of us. Blödhgarm was momentarily stunned by the force of father's blow, and father stalked across the finish line without a backward glance, completely covered in mud again and looking quite a sight. I couldn't stop laughing for at least five minutes, which made it all the worse, I'm sure. His time was the longest of anyone's. Father was in a sour mood for some time, but I think my cheerful teasing finally helped him get over his wounded pride.

"He rinsed off in the lake while the elves repaired the obstacle course for Knilf. Knilf had also found father's run through the obstacle course immensely amusing. Their rivalry was about like Eragon and Murtagh's, though not yet quite as friendly.

"So Knilf was the final Rider to attempt the elves' game. He is shorter than I am, but much broader and more muscular. He made it through the gauntlet run just fine. The wall was tough for him, since he had even farther to reach with his shorter limbs than I did. But his hand strength was greater and he was able to make better use of the small ledges on the wall.

"He copied Murtagh's approach to get across the rope, pulling himself along it hand over hand. His swim and run took longer because of his smaller stature, but he crawled right through the hoops on his hands and knees. His confrontation with the bear topped all of ours. The first time Blödhgarm lunged for him, Knilf dove right under the bear's hind legs and rolled his way over the finish line. It was hilarious. But ingenious. And it gave Knilf the second shortest time by only a few seconds. Which meant that Murtagh won, Knilf was second, I was third, Eragon was fourth, and father was last.

"Everyone always assumed Eragon was just the best at everything before then. But we all—especially the elves—had a lot more respect for Murtagh and Knilf after that. One thing we learned was that each of us had different strengths and those gave us unique advantages. It's not always just about being the tallest or the fastest or the strongest. Sometimes the smallest or the scrawniest will be more suited for a specific task. You boys remember that. All of you and your cousins near your age are so different in size and appearance, but you all have unique gifts. And your recurrent dreams with Angela seem to support that notion."

Willow finally ended her long tale, which had earned many giggles from the children, especially the account of their father's experience through the obstacle course. Right at that moment, the door swung open and their father strode through, tall and strong. The boys and their small assistants had long before finished their chores, and all four were gathered around Willow on the sofa.

"Dada!" the girls shrieked in delight. But the boys said nothing, and all of the children stayed where they were, for they knew their father would first greet their mother, just as he always did. They had learned long ago as one of their earliest lessons that mother was the most important person to father and he showed it every way he could.

Varhog smiled at his daughters as he approached the sofa. Willow began to laboriously make her way to her feet, but Varhog knelt down in front of her and said, "Hello, Eartheyes. You needn't rise. You look so comfortable there."

"I am, Varhog," Willow said. "And you would be so proud to know that your sons insisted I sit right down and relax while they took care of the laundry and preparing our snack. They wouldn't let me do anything but tell them a story as they worked."

He leaned forward and kissed her, resting his great hands on her pregnant belly. "I am very happy to hear that indeed," he said, glancing at either of his sons. "Hello, Will. Var. Thank you for helping mother. Have you also attended to your studies this morning?"

The twins nodded, and Var answered first. "Yes, father. I read from some of our books on ship building and sailing. I wrote in my journal, read to the girls, and we were playing before we helped mother."

"Well done, son," Varhog approved. He turned expectantly toward Will.

"I also read, father," Will said. "But Var and I are anxious to begin actually building the ship. May we as a present for our tenth birthday?"

"Mother and I will discuss it," Varhog promised. "I agree that you should begin soon. Surely you wouldn't be receiving such insistent advice to learn about ships unless you will one day actually need to use it. Did you work on writing or another subject?"

"I practiced arithmetic and spelling. Mother helped me with some vocabulary. There were some big words in my book."

Varhog smiled and offered Will similar words of praise. He finally turned his attention to his daughters, who were patiently waiting their turn. "Hello, girls!" he said, scooping them both into his long arms and hugging them to his chest. "How have you been this morning? Did you get plenty of playing in?"

Willow Jr. and Monrow each gave their father enthusiastic kisses and hugs.

Monrow exclaimed, "Yes, dada! Var played tea party with me. And while he and Will were studying, Willow and I played with Sunset. She was willing to take us for a ride, but mama thinks we're still too small."

"I agree," Varhog gently said. "I don't want anything to happen to my precious girls. Did you also have fun, Willow?" he asked his other daughter.

"Oh yes!" she gushed. "But my favorite part was hearing mama's story! I couldn't stop laughing!" She giggled again, and Varhog chuckled at the adorable sound. The twin girls looked so much like the miniature Willows they had both always pictured.

"I would love to hear about it," Varhog said. "How about you tell me while we eat? I'm hungry."

"All right, dada," Willow Jr. agreed. "You're always hungry."

Varhog laughed again. "So I am, sweetie. Did you help make our snack?"

"No, dada. That was Monrow and Var. I helped Will with the laundry by matching the socks," she proudly shared. "See?" She scooped up the pile of folded socks, and several of the bundles fell to the floor. "Oops."

Varhog gathered them together. "Good job, honey," he said. "I'm so proud of what wonderful helpers you are for mama. Now run to the table so I can help her up."

The girls jumped up off his lap and obeyed their father. Varhog stood and pulled Willow to her feet. They embraced and kissed again. She gave him a tender smile, one that clearly communicated how much she adored watching him interact with their children.

Once they had all taken their seats at the table and Monrow had offered a blessing, Varhog said, "So tell me about mother's story."

The children eagerly delved into the tale, each taking turns relating the account they had just heard. Willow laughed again at their childlike joy and amusement. Varhog also chuckled as his children reminded him of his experience going through the obstacle course. When they were done, he emphasized the same lesson Willow had.

"I want you children—especially you boys—to remember that. The oldest children of the most senior Dragon Riders are being prepared for something. Each of you has received repeated instruction to master a specific skill. Mother, myself, and the other parents have all spoken before that we believe it is because you will be expected to overcome a difficult challenge or problem. If you each work together with your unique strengths, you will be able to overcome anything. As a team you will be stronger than if you compete with one another."

The boys nodded solemnly to show their understanding. Then the family happily carried on for the remainder of their midmorning meal.

* * *

 **A/N:** This chapter was delightful to write and gave me an opportunity to explore what Willow and Varhog's time on the Isle would have been like before they knew they were in love. It also just so happened to work seamlessly with what I'm doing with the Riders' children as they're all being prepared with different skills.


	5. Winter in Alagaёsia

**5\. Winter in Alagaёsia**

Later that year, Varhog and Eragon's families were back in Alagaёsia at the Bolvek village. They usually stayed on until after Varhog's birthday just after the new year, and this year was special because Murtagh, Grintuk, and Hanin were also there with their families for a brief visit during the winter holidays. Everyone had been in Ilirea the previous week for Tomath and Elva's wedding, and from there all of the Riders present for that celebration made their way to Lake Fläm.

Tomath and Elva had heard of what a unique privilege it was to honeymoon in an Urgal village from the prince, who never tired of teasing his younger 'brother.' The newlywed couple also accompanied the group of Riders and their families, though they weren't frequent participants in the festivities the others enjoyed.

On one clear, cold day, all of the oldest children convinced their fathers to take them outside to play while their mothers stayed inside with the small babies and youngest children. Willow's newest daughter Viola was nearly six months old. Arya had an eighteen-month-old. The High Queen Nasuada had a two-year-old and was expecting her fifth baby. Breetuk had two small children under the age of three and another on the way. Maehrí's fourth child was a newborn of only two months.

Their countless Urgralgra cousins joined the Dragon Riders' older children outside in their loud and joyous play. Since there were so many Urgal fathers, uncles, and grandpas to take part in the play, Eragon and Murtagh soon found themselves witnessing the spectacle from off to one side.

"It seems we're not as fun as the Urgal fathers," Murtagh dryly observed to his brother.

"Yes, so it would appear," Eragon assented with a chuckle. "They can carry on tirelessly with the children. Look how Will and Var play with the little ones. They're so gentle and careful. Just like Varhog."

Murtagh nodded and continued to watch. He laughed softly as his daughter Lena got in a fairly good shot with a snowball at Will. Will chased after her and when she nearly tripped, he reached out and caught her to keep her from falling in the snow. Lena gave him a grateful hug before jumping on his back for a ride. When Var saw this arrangement, he ran over to Zadí and invited her up. Zadí delightedly obliged, and the twins lined up next to each other for a race. Lena counted down for them, and the boys were off. The girls squealed as Will and Var dashed around the clearing, dodging snowballs thrown by the younger children.

"They have always taken to our two daughters, haven't they?" Murtagh affectionately remarked.

"That they have," Eragon agreed. "Though Zadí is only eight, and I therefore can't believe I am even thinking about this right now, I still think nothing would make me happier than if Var continued to show a preference for her. No two boys will make better husbands than Will and Var, with Varhog as their father."

Murtagh admitted, "I have had the very same thoughts. Varhog always told me he learned how to treat a woman chivalrously from our examples on the Isle, but ever since he died and was restored, I feel that he has left me far behind in his treatment of Willow. It is nearly impossible to be as attentive, thoughtful, and devoted as he. And I'm beginning to think he might have been more generous in his praise than we deserved, now that I have had so much opportunity to observe how Urgal rams in general treat their mates and other females."

"I know what you mean. I find myself constantly learning from Varhog's example how I can be better to Arya."

"Would it bother you if the twins grew horns?" Murtagh asked.

Eragon looked over at him. "No, brother. You should know that. Would it bother you?"

"No, Eragon," Murtagh replied. "I was only curious. Neither of us has had a hard feeling toward an Urgal for at least a decade. Isn't it interesting how we once viewed them?"

"You could say that. Though 'interesting' perhaps isn't as appropriate as 'regrettable.' When I first saw Nar Garzhvog marching into the Varden's camp to meet with Nasuada, I thought he was grotesque. It was all I could do not to draw Zar'roc and strike him to the ground. I am ashamed I once felt that way."

"How long did you continue to see them like that?"

"For some time," Eragon confessed. "There was one evening when a group of them sat around a campfire listening to Angela tell stories. I still thought their features were grotesque and alien. All I could see were their horns and yellow eyes."

"When did that begin to change?"

"Mainly when I ran with Nar Garzhvog to the dwarf kingdom. But my first exposure, aside from what I reluctantly learned in Ellesméra during my studies with Oromis, was when Nasuada asked me to probe the minds of four Urgal rams assigned to protect me. I got a glimpse into their lives and motivations, which revealed how blind I was to think of them as feral beasts. During that journey to the Beors with Garzhvog, I learned a lot about the Urgals. And when I finally came here to propose the Games and extending the pact, I realized their children look like human children, only with gray skin and yellow eyes. I think that by then I had finally overcome my prejudice against them and could therefore see them with unbiased eyes. The grotesqueness before was always just a result of my stubborn and ridiculous view that Urgals were monsters who didn't deserve to live. Now all I see when I look at them is beauty and goodness and family. No offense, but I feel as close to Varhog as I do you."

"None taken," Murtagh dismissed. "I feel the same. They really do look like humans with yellow eyes and gray skin who have grown horns. And several inches in height."

"And a couple hundred pounds of muscle," Eragon wryly added. "Yes, if Zadí and Var became a couple, I would be very pleased indeed. He would be able to protect her against any threat and would be as loyal to her as I am to Arya. Every girl deserves a husband like that."

"I couldn't agree more. Nasuada does too. Lena is very serious and thoughtful. Someone like Will would be good for her. He's always being silly just to get her to laugh." He paused for a moment, then went on, "Hearing you mention Angela a moment ago reminded me of something I've been wanting to ask. Has Brom still been having dreams of her each birthday?"

Eragon took his eyes off the snow play. "Yes, Murtagh. He has. And the twins do too. Zadí had her first dream when she was six, same as Brom. And Angela has visited her each year since then. Nefin has seen her. Hanna first saw her when she turned six. So have Keeta and Brin. Has Ajh? He is now eight."

"He has," Murtagh confirmed. "Does this worry you all there on the Isle? Nasuada and I can't decide how to feel, though our strongest emotion tends to be concern. It seems they're being prepared for something very specific. The thought of our children being in danger terrifies me. Didn't we fight to ensure this wouldn't happen?"

"We are also worried, though the children seem to think it's interesting. But not all of the children six and older have been visited. Only ten of the oldest, not including Ginnee and Bentuk. On the Isle we can't think of any threat that would require these skills, though the twins learning to build and navigate a ship seems to suggest that they will one day need it. Are there still rumors of the Ra'zac resurfacing? I suppose that might be a threat, but then again, not if a couple of Dragon Riders went to take care of it. Saphira and I were able to defeat two Lethrblaka and two Ra'zac only a couple years after I became a Dragon Rider."

Murtagh nodded. "We occasionally hear rumors, but that's all they are. I would imagine for that very reason. The Ra'zac won't be able to do any real damage as long as there are Dragon Riders in Alagaёsia. Even if there really _are_ new Ra'zac in the land and they lay low until their twentieth year when they transform into Lethrblaka, they still won't stand a chance."

"Is there anything else that might potentially pose a big enough threat?" Eragon pressed.

"Not that I can think of. As long as the Dragon Riders continue keeping the peace, there really isn't anyone who can threaten us. We are too powerful, especially with our ranks increasing each year. Though we only have one new Rider join every year, we now have twenty Dragon Riders. That's more than enough magical skill and fighting ability to overcome any threat."

Eragon quietly shared, "When Brom was five he once discussed with Arya the name of the ancient language. But a different part of their conversation stayed with me. He worried whether someone might one day be able to render the Riders useless. I had never considered that before and can't think of a way it would even be possible, but it has always remained in the back of my mind as a nagging concern. If we were all gone or powerless, some of those threats would be very real."

"Indeed. Come to think of it, there has been the ongoing problem with Tenga. Nasuada continues her efforts of bringing him under control. I have long tried to convince her that it is unnecessary. He seems a harmless old hermit and nothing in his behavior has ever bothered or injured another person. But I worry that her insistence may end up creating the exact opposite effect. We know very little about him except that he is impossibly old, a very skilled magician, and mentally deranged. Not a good combination based on past experience."

"No, not good at all," Eragon mused. "Does Nasuada continue to lose spellcasters she sends after him?"

"Yes, but I worry they aren't being killed, like she seems to think. The first four were. Arya found their bodies. That was before she went to the Isle. But lately they seem to just disappear, like Tenga himself. What if they're joining with him? What if he is gathering an army to oppose the measures Nasuada has taken? I wouldn't want to become Galbatorix all over again by banding together with the might of the Eldunarí and wiping out or controlling all of the other magicians. I think that's probably why I have always been uneasy about Nasuada's efforts. It feels too much like what Galbatorix was trying to do. There must be a better way, but I can't think of it."

"Nor I," Eragon said. Just then Evandar ran to his father's legs. Eragon swept him up. "Hello, my boy. It looks like you've been having a grand time. Are you ready to go in for some hot cocoa?"

"Yes, Father!" Evandar breathlessly cried. "Did you see me tackle Brom? I took him down with one snowball!" He pounded a small gloved fist into the palm of his other hand for emphasis.

Eragon chuckled. "I certainly did, Evan. Brom didn't stand a chance against your strength and courage. Shall we go suggest some hot cocoa to the others? You feel quite cold. I would imagine taking a short break would be for the best."

Evan nodded. So Eragon and Murtagh began making their way through the children, inviting them to come inside for a time. They all trooped toward Myrintuk and Garzhvog's hut, which was the largest and therefore had the most hope of fitting the many children and adults.

After everyone was inside and the children had enjoyed their warm drink, they began playing with one another while the adults carried on conversation over dinner preparations.

Willow Jr. and Monrow asked their beloved older brothers to play their favorite game, which was house. And it was easy to do with so many other children around to be pretend mothers, daughters, and sons.

Will kindly said, "Of course I'll play house with you, girls! Who shall I be? Your brother?"

"No, Will," Willow Jr. patiently denied. "You're our _real_ brother. You must be the pretend father."

"Very well," Will easily agreed. "And will you be the mother?"

"No!" she exclaimed. "I'm the daughter, silly! One of them anyway. And Monrow is the other. Lena must be the mother."

Will grinned over at Lena. "Lena, you're my wife," he teased. "And look at our sweet little girls."

Lena delightedly played along: "Oh, they're so beautiful, _dear_." Both she and Will laughed. And they carried on with their imaginary game. The twin girls insisted that their father go off to work at the training fields, for that was what their real father did many days. When Will came home for lunch, he greeted Lena with a big hug and a playful kiss on her forehead. They pretended to have a meal together.

Var hadn't been given a role in the beginning, so after several minutes, he took it upon himself to make the game more exciting for his little sisters. He snuck around from behind and suddenly pounced into the middle of their living room.

"I'm the evil villain and now I'm going to kidnap your mother!" he growled.

The girls squealed in mock terror and cried for their mother's safety. Var snatched Lena up and carried her off. When Will came home from work, his little girls breathlessly explained the dilemma to him. So their father went off in search of their mother. When Will reached Var's lair, which was behind one of the sofas where some of the adults sat, he fought the villain and rescued his wife. He returned home with Lena and presented her to their daughters. Willow Jr. and Monrow were thrilled with their mother's safe homecoming and smothered Lena with hugs and kisses. Lena laughed the whole time, even while being held hostage.

Not long after, it was time for dinner. The children continued to play with one another as long as they could, and it was one of the best winters in Alagaёsia that any of them remembered.

-:-:-:-

* * *

 **A/N:** The discussion between Eragon and Murtagh about the Urgals was an attempt to explain my portrayal of Urgals in both of my stories. In the Inheritance Cycle, there are numerous references to them as grotesque. But in my story, they're handsome and beautiful. How can that be? What Eragon tells Murtagh in this chapter reflects my feelings on the subject. I personally believe (and I have nothing to base this on except personal opinion and speculation) that Christopher Paolini had a gradual transformation toward Urgals similar to what Eragon went through.

In the beginning of his series, they're the bad guys, the race the humans hate, so the humans see them as monsters. By the end, Eragon sees that they don't look that much different from humans as children. I remember asking myself, "How can they look like humans as children (except for their skin and eye color) and grow up to be grotesque-looking just because they've grown horns?" It didn't make any sense to me. So I decided that Eragon's initial views of Urgals were clouded by his hatred and bias toward them. Once he had gotten over that, he saw them as they truly appear. It was how Willow always saw Varhog, though the horns took some getting used to. But once she was used to them, she could see his beauty and the beauty of the whole Urgal race.


	6. Focus

**6\. Focus**

On the morning of Brom's thirteenth birthday, he and Blödhgarm sat with their eyes closed in the Cave of the Eldunarí. Will, Var, Zadí, Nefin, Brin, and Hanna surrounded them and looked on in interest.

"Can you sense me, Blödhgarm?" Brom asked.

"No, Brom," the elf replied. "How _are_ you able to do that?"

"I don't know," Brom admitted as he opened his eyes. "I guess I've taken our lessons further than you originally imagined I would."

"But that I cannot sense you at all, though you are sitting right in front of me, is incredible. I cannot sense your energy with my mind. I cannot even sense that you are breathing. These other children are as vibrant as any living person, but it is as if you are not even here."

Brom shrugged. "I focus on nothing. Absolute nothingness. You taught me that having unwavering focus is one of the most important elements of using magic without words. I began thinking to myself that if I could hone my focus enough, I might be able to effectively shield all perception of myself from another being's awareness. Don't you think it might be useful?"

Blödhgarm carefully responded, "It depends on your intentions, Brom. Some creatures—like the Ra'zac, for example—are also undetectable by magical means, but they use that advantage to harm others."

"I'd never hurt anyone," Brom insisted. "But if someone else wanted to hurt me or the ones I love, and I could effectively make myself disappear from their awareness, then I would have an opportunity to counter their efforts without them knowing what was happening. Or am I mistaken?"

Blödhgarm thoughtfully considered this. Finally he said, "I suppose you could, if you were also somehow able to breach their mental defenses without their awareness and perceive what type of magic they were using simply from your observation of their mind."

"Can such techniques be learned?" Brom asked.

"I am learning not to limit your abilities, Brom," Blödhgarm said. "Perhaps your uncanny skill has something to do with your young age. Elven children tend to be more powerful than their adult counterparts. But you are only part elf. It seems you have an innate gift in this area, a tendency or inclination that guides your efforts almost unknowingly. If you believe you could learn to do what you just suggested, I would say you most likely will. But I also feel to caution you. Such an ability would require focus of the most intense, unwavering nature. And a powerful magician would no doubt soon realize what was happening, whether or not they could sense you. I would imagine that learning to also make your physical body invisible would help. But so many concurrent magical efforts might quickly exhaust you, which can be fatal. You might need to have a store to draw from."

"Like the gems in the Riders' blades?" Brom asked.

"Yes, something of that nature," Blödhgarm agreed. "Gemstones tend to be good choices because of their immense energy storage capacity. But aside from that, I was going to say that you might want a bodyguard."

Brom smiled. "What do you mean?"

"It seems your gift is one of focus," Blödhgarm explained. "But this kind of focus has a drawback. You will miss nearly everything else going on around you. If someone did notice the physical location of your body while you were engaged in this kind of focused, mental magical effort, they might easily kill you and put an end to your threat. If you had a bodyguard, they would be able to protect your body while you battled with your mind. Does that make sense?"

"Yes," Brom said. "I already know who I'd want." He looked over at Brin. "You, Brin."

Brin blushed. "I don't know what you mean," she modestly muttered. Brin was Grintuk and Breetuk's oldest daughter. She had been visited by Angela in a dream every year starting on her sixth birthday, just as Brom, Var, Will, Lena, Nefin, Keeta, Zadí, Ajh, and Hanna. Angela's counsel to her was to learn how to fight with every possible weapon and style she could. And though she was still several months shy of her twelfth birthday, she was undoubtedly the best overall fighter of any of the Riders' children. Nefin was better at archery, but she held her own against him. And the others were all learning swordsmanship and hand-to-hand fighting, but Brin had also learned close-quarter combat fighting styles that required discipline, speed, and dexterity. She could fight with a knife or dagger and had perfect aim. As an Urgal, Brin was tall for her age, but not as tall as her younger sister Ginnee, who seemed to be taking after her Kull mother and father.

"Sure you do, Brin," Will asserted. "You're the deadliest girl I've ever met."

"Be quiet, Will," Brin warned.

Var laughed. "It's all right, cousin. He's just proud of you. We all are. You've excelled in all of the fighting styles you've studied. All of us would choose you as a bodyguard."

Brin shrugged. "Like _you'll_ ever need a bodyguard. Besides, it's just what Angela told me. It doesn't seem as impressive as what Brom can do. He's a good fighter too. And I'm not building a ship. Nor could I track a dragon across the Isle when it flew the whole way, like Nefin. We each have our special talents."

Blödhgarm laughed at the exchange. "You children are all amazing. And you keep me incredibly busy with all of these private lessons. Whose turn is it tomorrow?"

Hanna, who was Hanin and Maehrí's nine-year-old daughter, timidly answered, "I think it's mine. More healing instruction."

"Ah, yes," Blödhgarm said. "We should have Willow help us with that. She seemed to have the same innate ability with healing magic that Brom has with mental control and focus. Her insight would surely be easier for you to understand than that of an elf who is several centuries old."

Hanna giggled then quickly bit her lip. "Sorry, master—I mean, Blödhgarm."

Blödhgarm smiled. "You only giggled, Hanna. Hardly a crime. You have also demonstrated incredible skill with magic. Perhaps that is also partially attributable to your young age and race. It has been a unique privilege for me to interact with you children all of these years. Not something I had much opportunity to do ever before. Elven children were always so rare for the majority of my life, not to mention that I stayed so isolated by preference. Meet me here tomorrow then. The rest of you are also welcome, as always, unless you have other studies or responsibilities to attend to."

Hanna nodded, murmuring her agreement as the dark-furred elf fluidly rose and loped out of the cave.

The children looked around at each other once Blödhgarm was gone. Will broke the silence by saying, "Brom, that was amazing! You'll be the greatest magician of all time!"

Brom shrugged modestly, just as Brin had. "I only want to be prepared in case a day comes when I'll need to do that. But it seems like we'd be in big trouble if it did, so I hope it never _does_ come." He glanced at Brin and attempted to tease, which didn't come as naturally to him as it did to Will and Var. "But if it did, we'd all be all right as long as Brin really _was_ my bodyguard."

She laughed obligingly and teased back, much more easily than Brom had, " _Maybe_ I'll consider it. But only if you'll help me with my babysitting duties."

Everyone laughed along with Brom and Brin. The one thing that kept them busier than any of their training and academic responsibilities on the Isle of the Eldunarí was babysitting the dozen or so younger siblings they had between them all. And six of those siblings were Brin's: her younger sister Ginnee—who actually helped with babysitting as much as Brin did—and their five younger brothers.

"So what else are you doing for your birthday, Brom?" Nefin asked. Nefin was Hanin and Maehrí's oldest son, who would also be turning thirteen later that year. He and Brom looked like they could be brothers. They had exactly the same shade of midnight black hair—though Brom's was curly and Nefin's was straight—pointed ears, tan skin, and light eyes. But Nefin's were the same startling blue as his mother's, whereas Brom's were the sparkling green of _his_ mother's.

"I'm not sure," Brom responded. "Mother and father most likely have something special planned that they'll try to surprise me with."

"You could always attempt to practice your new skill and figure that out by secretly invading their minds," Will suggested with a playful smile.

But Brom didn't laugh in response. He seriously said, "I want you all to know that I would _never_ do that with anyone I know and care for without first asking permission. I don't want you all to get suspicious of me and worry that I'll be in your mind without your awareness. I'd never do it with a stranger either, unless I felt I absolutely had to in order to protect someone else. And that's assuming I can even learn how to do it in the first place. Maybe you all can help me practice."

After they had all nodded their agreement, Brom stood and made his way over to the store of dormant dragon eggs that had been laid by Saphira, Sunset, Snowfire, Vera, and Midnight.

"I wonder if these will ever decide to hatch," he mused, running his hand over the smooth surface of several of the eggs. The others all followed him over.

"I love these eggs," Zadí admiringly said. "They're so mesmerizing. Most of our parents' dragons are solid colors. Blue, green, pink-orange, black, violet, silver, gold. I guess Midnight has bronze streaks. But _all_ of these eggs have patterns like that, whether streaks or specks or stripes or spots or swirls. The dragons will be so beautiful. It _does_ seem strange that they've waited so long to hatch. There are only four left from the batch hidden in the Vault of Souls. If these others don't start hatching soon, how will new Riders be chosen?"

Brom stopped when his hand was over Saphira's first egg, which had a vibrant teal color with swirls of sapphire blue and emerald green across the surface. "I don't know, sweetie," he said to his little sister.

Zadí blushed. "Brom," she complained, "I'll be _eleven_ this year. You can't call me sweetie anymore."

"Sorry, sweetie," Brom teased with a smile. Zadí impatiently stomped her foot. "Very well, Zadí," Brom finally relented. "But you don't hate sweetie as much as you hate 'Izzie.'"

Zadí's eyes flitted to Var, who grinned. Var was the only one who had ever called Zadí Izzie, a nickname made from the first part of her long name, Islanzadí. "That's true," Zadí agreed. "And I don't know how Var ever got it in his head that calling me Izzie was a good idea."

"That's exactly how I got it in my head," Var said with a laugh. "Because I know how much you hate it."

"Var!" Zadí cried in exasperation. She rolled her eyes and made to shove Var, but he caught her hand and spun her under his arm. She couldn't help but giggle.

"Speaking of getting things in my head," Var added after releasing Zadí's hand, "I seem to be getting another of those strange headaches. Are you Will?"

Will nodded but didn't have time to speak before the exchange was suddenly interrupted by a shrill squeak. They all jumped, looking around to identify the unexpected sound.

"The egg!" Brom exclaimed. "It moved under my hand!"

"It's hatching!" Zadí excitedly trilled. "Tell mother and father!"

Brom used his mind to find his mother and father. Once he had, he all but shouted, _Mother, father! Saphira's first egg just started hatching for me! Come to the Cave quickly!_

Within minutes Eragon and Arya arrived, with Saphira and Fírnen close behind. They all crowded into the chamber that housed the Eldunarí and dragon eggs. Brom had removed the egg from its shelf so it wouldn't fall to the ground. He looked up from where he was sitting with it cradled in his lap at the eager faces of his father, mother, and their dragons.

"You get your secret wish, Saphira!" Brom said. "And you finally get to meet your first hatchling, thirteen years after you laid him."

 _Yes, little one!_ Saphira crowed, nearly beside herself with anticipation.

The teal egg began to quake more violently, and the earsplitting screeching only increased in volume. Finally the first fissure split the shell. Before another crack formed on the surface, a tiny talon poked its way out of the first fracture and slowly widened it. Then several more talons joined the first one, and the male dragon inside pried open the tight confines of its home until his tiny head was visible.

Brom laughed. "Hello, little fellow! What an interesting way to emerge from your egg. I already have an idea for your name. Talon, after the first part of you that I saw. And it's also close to your teal color. What do you think?"

The dragon pushed more of the shell away from his body by raising his head. He opened his small mouth and let out a quavering, tiny roar. Everyone observing his hatching responded in turn. Eragon laughed, as Brom had. Arya crooned in delight, as if she had just given birth herself. Zadí clapped her hands. Saphira's answering roar was deep and powerful, as was Fírnen's proud trumpet.

 _I like my name, Brom,_ Talon replied. The dragon extended his small snout toward Brom's right hand and nuzzled him at the same time that Brom reached to stroke him. Brom gasped at the contact as tingling, icy tremors coursed through his hand and up his arm. His father was behind him in an instant, supporting around his shoulders to keep him from lurching backwards.

"Wow!" Brom exclaimed. "That hurts! Like icy fire burning through my veins. I can't feel my hand or arm at all!" He repeatedly clenched his fingers into a fist while twisting his hand back and forth. "And there it is!" he declared with a jubilant laugh. "A gedwёy ignasia. I'm a Dragon Rider!"

-:-:-:-


	7. Headaches

**7\. Headaches**

The twins went to bed early that night, complaining about more headaches and feeling exhausted. Once Willow Jr., Monrow, and Viola were also asleep, Willow and Varhog snuggled together on their sofa. Varhog snuggled his infant son Rayhog—whom they called Ray—on his broad chest.

Willow worriedly asked, "Varhog, do you have any idea what all of these strange headaches could mean? Will and Var have been having them for weeks now. I'm starting to get really concerned."

Varhog chuckled. "Do you really want to know what I think or would you rather be surprised?"

Willow creased her brow. "What do you mean?"

"Can't you guess, Eartheyes?"

Willow regarded Varhog and thought for a moment. "My brain must still be fuzzy from the recent birth," she finally admitted. "I can't think of any explanation for that silly grin you're giving me."

Varhog's grin widened. "Very well. I will share my suspicions. I think the twins will soon start growing horns."

"Really?" Willow gasped with wide eyes. "Why didn't I think of that? Now that you've said it, it seems so obvious! How wonderful!" She laughed delightedly. "Will they soon bud? Did you experience the same thing before yours started growing?" Willow reached out a hand and lovingly ran it around one of Varhog's impressive horns.

"Yes, Willow," Varhog answered. "For several weeks before my thirteenth birthday I experienced recurrent headaches. I woke up one morning after an early bedtime to discover that my horns had started budding that night. Of course, in the Urgal village everyone—including me—knew what the symptoms meant, so I was anxious for the morning when I would awaken with the beginnings of my horns. I wouldn't be surprised if Will and Var woke up tomorrow to realize the same thing. I've been keeping my thoughts to myself—and asked Grintuk, Breetuk, and the other Urgal Riders to do the same—so it would be a surprise for them." His happy expression clouded to one of mild concern.

"Why do you seem worried, sweetheart?"

"I suppose I've often wondered if Will and Var might prefer _not_ to have horns. Their skin has always continued to resemble yours, though it's slightly paler. And their eyes are that amazing, shimmering, golden brown that all of our children have. They look just like tall, handsome, strong human boys. I've wondered if they would resent that growing horns would obviously make them stand out and be different."

"Different from humans and elves, but the same as the Urgralgra we're so often living among," Willow reminded him. "They'll be thrilled, Varhog! You know how much they adore you and want to be exactly like you. And how much I've always hoped they would grow horns. How does the skin of their forehead look right after? Will it be bloody?"

"Only a little," Varhog said. "The horns emerge gradually, so it isn't a huge opening all at once. About as much as when new teeth cut through a baby's gums." He glanced down at Ray, who was turning his face toward Varhog's chest and working his fingers into his mouth.

"He's starting to get hungry," Varhog said with a gentle smile. "I love when they're so small and fit in such a tiny little bundle on my chest."

"Even _I_ can fit curled up on your chest, Yelloweyes," Willow teased. "Grintuk just might be able to as well."

Varhog chuckled, handing Ray to Willow, who gave her baby an enthusiastic kiss as she accepted him.

"Hello, precious!" she crooned in her sing-song baby voice. "But I know what you meant," she continued to Varhog. "And it's perfectly delightful when they're this tiny. It seems like this stage is even shorter with every new baby since there's so much more happening. I worry that if I even blink, when I open my eyes again, he'll already be one and walking around with the rest of them. Can you believe we already have six?" She helped baby Ray latch onto her breast, where he began eagerly suckling.

"It's wonderful, Eartheyes. Two at a time for the first two pregnancies made it seem to go all the faster. But it didn't really put us in the lead, since the twins' insistent nursing made the gaps between so much wider. And nobody can keep up with Bree and Grintuk. I think after the first five came in five years, they finally decided to pay more attention to what they were doing. Now their babies have only arrived every two years."

Willow laughed with Varhog. "True. And so many sons! I'm glad Brin and Ginnee have each other."

Varhog watched his wife and son for a time. When he returned his gaze to Willow's face, she was staring at him with a tender look in her eyes. "What?"

"Can't you guess, Yelloweyes?" she asked, using words he had earlier.

"I actually can," Varhog said. Imitating her voice, which always earned him a laugh, he said, "'I love you more every day, Varhog. I'm so grateful for what a sweet father you are." He changed his voice back to his normal deep tones to finish, "And that you're still the most amazing lover in the world."

Willow laughed blissfully, just as he had expected. "My face is an open book," she said with mock regret.

"Or I just hear the words often enough to have them memorized," Varhog returned. "You know I feel exactly the same. But I changed my voice when I did because _you_ are still the most amazing lover in the world."

"No one can hope to match an Urgal ram," Willow countered. "But I will always be grateful that I'm fortunate enough to experience it so regularly. Do you think Will and Var will inherit that ability? Or experience the strange phenomenon created by kissing?"

"I suppose they won't know until they're married," Varhog mused. "It might be wise to warn them about the kissing. That could lead to a potentially awkward situation, but only if they kissed a girl they loved enough to want as a mate."

Willow smiled and leaned into him. "Ray's as efficient as Will and Var ever were. He's already finished. Your turn?"

"Willow, you're exhausted," Varhog objected. "Taking care of six children all day is far harder than the most strenuous labor I could even conceive of inflicting upon myself during Dragon Rider training."

"Not with two mini-Varhogs around to help me all day. The boys literally never let me do anything but sit here and nurse Ray. And Monrow and Willow Jr. are the same. They even take him potty, take care of Vi, and bring me food. I'm only allowed to get up to use the washroom. You have trained them well, Yelloweyes. I actually _need_ some good exercise to get me relaxed and ready to sleep."

Varhog stood, scooping Willow up and kissing her. "I know better than to complain," he playfully said, walking with her to their bedroom and closing the door behind him.

-:-:-

The next morning, Will and Var woke at about the same time, as they nearly always seemed to do. Will groaned and pulled his pillow over his head, which was when he noticed the dark brownish spots on his pillowcase.

"Var, what did you put on my pillow last night?" he complained.

"I was wondering the same thing," Var said, turning toward Will's bed. "Did you sleep walk into the corner of a cupboard or something last night, Will? You have some lovely bumps on your forehead."

"Look who's talking," Will griped. Then he reached up to feel his forehead. He slowly sat up at the same time as Var, who was likewise touching his forehead. They stared at each other, knowing it was as good as staring into a mirror. Then, as if thinking the same thing, they both sprang up and dashed over to the mirror, each pushing to get their face in front of it.

"Horns!" Will exclaimed.

"We started growing horns!" Var shouted. "That's the best!"

"Let's go show mother and father!"

-:-:-:-


	8. Twin Riders

**8\. Twin Riders**

A few months later, after spending the morning of their thirteenth birthday building their sailing ship, the twins joined their peers in the Cave of the Eldunarí for another of Brom's magic lessons. In the short time since Talon had hatched for him, Brom had made great strides in his ability to shield his mind and simultaneously invade Blödhgarm's mind with a mental attack. Since Blödhgarm couldn't sense Brom, he couldn't defend against Brom's mental invasion.

"I still do not understand how that is possible," Blödhgarm admitted after concluding the lesson with Brom. "I should be able to mentally sense your energy, just as you are learning to do as a Rider, but there is no blaze of energy or light. I never even know you are in my mind unless you start trying to meddle, and only then because I can feel changes in my thoughts that I am not controlling. It is very unsettling Brom. You are the first magician to my knowledge who has ever learned this ability. And I'm not sure whether that is a good thing. I am now glad that I made you swear in the ancient language that you would never enter my mind like this without my permission."

Brom smiled uneasily. "You know I'd never harm anyone, Blödhgarm. I realize what an ability like this could do in the hands of the wrong person. But Angela keeps telling me to explore these skills, so I do."

"And are you drawing strength from Talon to help you?" Blödhgarm asked.

"No," Brom said. "In fact, whenever I practice I try to pretend I'm not even bonded to Talon. I can ignore the bond as if it's not even there, in the same way I can shield my mind from you."

"Interesting," Blödhgarm mused. "Well, I'm not going to pretend like I know what all of these mysterious warnings mean. Or what all of you children are being prepared for. But there is no denying that you _are_ being prepared for something. If my role in it is to help you master these abilities, then I will do my best."

"Thank you, Blödhgarm," Brom sincerely said.

"Your turn tomorrow, Nefin?" Blödhgarm asked as he stood.

"Yes, master," Nefin respectfully answered. "Oh, I mean . . . Blödhgarm. Sorry. I always forget."

"No matter, Nefin," Blödhgarm said. "Shall we start your lesson with a test? If you can find me on the Isle, we shall have your lesson. If not? Well, I really do not think we need to worry about that. You will find me." He chuckled in a wolfy way as he strode out of the cave.

"I love it when he makes you find him," Var said. "He always tries to make it harder each time, but you'll find him. You can track a dragon in the sky, Nefin."

Nefin shrugged. All of them felt the same. They were learning their special skills because Angela insisted it was critical, not because they wanted to brag about their amazing abilities. And their abilities were only as impressive as they were because they _did_ spend so much time mastering them. Nefin's counsel from Angela was to become an expert tracker, and since he'd had over six years to practice, he already _was_ an expert. Try as he might, Blödhgarm could never shake Nefin from his trail as he had in the early days.

The group of youngsters approached the dragon eggs, as they always did after any of their lessons with Blödhgarm were over. Zadí was the one to ask the twins their birthday plans.

Var responded, "Well, we're most excited for Uncle Murtagh to come. He's bringing Lena and Ajh with him for a visit, since it's Lena's birthday too. They should be here anytime now. They left Ilirea so they would arrive by today."

"Aren't they planning on presenting you all to these eggs, since Talon hatched on Brom's thirteenth birthday?" Brin asked.

"Yep," Will confirmed, proudly rubbing the nubs of his horns. "But I don't think I could get a better present than a new baby brother a few months ago and horns just a couple weeks later." Var nodded his agreement.

Brom then informed, "My mother just told me in my mind that she and Fírnen have spotted Thorn approaching from the west. And Snowfire too, with Tomath and Elva."

Will whooped and started running toward the cave entrance. "Come on, everyone! Let's go meet them!"

-:-:-

After the initial excitement of greetings and hugs and "Happy birthdays!" died down, the inhabitants of the Isle and their guests enjoyed a bounteous feast.

Ajh eagerly recounted his tales of cooking in the royal kitchens with the palace chefs. His humor was as easy and cheerful as his father's, and he found Angela's strange advice to him—that he learn all about food, how to cook with it, and how to find edible foods in the wild—as amusing as the rest of them.

"So I'll surely never bring down a powerful sorcerer with a perfectly crusted salmon, but he'll wish he could try mine before Brom takes him out! It was delicious, wasn't it, Lena?"

Lena smiled patiently at her younger brother's antics and nodded. "But not as good as the chocolate cake," she helpfully added.

"True!" Ajh agreed, continuing undaunted, "I know you all poke fun that my ability is to learn how to cook, but mark my words, one day you'll all be grateful I took the counsel just as seriously as the rest of you. When I save you from eating some poisonous mushroom or dry beans and bland biscuits for months on end!"

The others laughed and carried on as animatedly and good-naturedly as their parents were doing at the neighboring table in the Great Hall.

When everyone finished eating and cleaning up the meal, the group made their way to another area of the Great Hall, where the elves had carefully transported the many eggs laid by the married Riders' female dragons. The three new thirteen-year-olds were going to be presented to the eggs to see if any would hatch for them as Talon had for Brom.

In true gentlemanly fashion, Will and Var insisted Lena go first.

"What do I do?" Lena self-consciously wondered, looking to her father for help.

"Just reach out and touch the eggs," Murtagh invited. "Speak to them, if you want. The dragons inside can communicate as well as you can in all of the languages used by Dragon Riders, so they will understand. The Eldunarí tutor them while they rest in the Cave."

Lena nodded and tentatively approached the long table, immediately identifying which eggs were produced by which mated pair. The assortment of blue, green, and teal eggs came from Saphira and Fírnen. The red, white, and pink ones were from Thorn and Snowfire, and there weren't as many of these since the two dragons hadn't joined as mates until more recently. Any eggs with the stunning combination of black and pink-orange were obviously produced by Black Thunder and Sunset. Silvan and Vera created eggs with mesmerizing patterns of violet and silver, whereas Kuldr and Midnight yielded equally spectacular arrangements of gold, bronze, and deep purple.

Ever a favorite of Thorn, Lena reached for the first egg that had caught her eye, and which she knew was Snowfire's first. It was a beautiful pale pink color with jagged ruby red streaks staggered across the surface. Lena had been told the dragon inside was female, though she didn't know how anyone could determine such a thing. But she knew they could and therefore believed them.

"Hello," she whispered. "It's Lena. I feel silly talking to an egg, especially since everyone is watching me." She peeked over her shoulder at Will, somehow feeling his grin. She smiled in return then looked back toward the eggs.

Lena had heard the story of Talon hatching for Brom and remembered that it had happened quickly. She felt awkward just standing there with all of the Riders, elves, and children watching her, so she moved away from the red-streaked pink egg and ran her hand along all of the rest, stopping only briefly at each one.

When she had touched each one and nothing happened, she returned to her father and said, "Let Will and Var go. It's fine."

The twins seemed to have thought of how they would do this, and they did it together like they did almost everything. They walked straight to Sunset's first two eggs, which were fuchsia with black streaks and black with fuchsia streaks, each laying a hand on one where they rested side by side on the table.

"Hi," they both began, stopping with a laugh and looking at each other.

"You first," Will continued alone. "You _are_ older." He and Var laughed again.

So Var went on, "It's Var again. We've met a hundred times. At least, we've spoken to your eggs plenty. We're thirteen now. Don't know if that makes a difference." He stopped, expectantly glancing at Will.

"And I'm here too," Will said. "As usual." He grinned and they silently waited, as if knowing these two eggs were destined for them and would begin hatching directly.

Which they did. The earsplitting screeching began right before the insistent wobbling. The boys each grabbed the egg under their hands while their family approached from behind to watch more closely.

"I knew it!" Will cried. "Sunset, you get to meet your first two babies!"

The dragon craned her neck over the small crowd of people for a better view. Her huge black mate also reached his face closer to observe the hatching of his first two offspring.

Before long, and after many more squeaks and cracks, the two tiny sister dragons were licking the membranes off their legs and curiously regarding the many delighted faces around them.

"They could be twins too!" Var exclaimed. "Their coloring is just reversed. Mine's all pink with black streaks and yours is all black with pink streaks."

"I'm glad you got the girlier one," Will teased.

"She's prettier," Var defended. "Aren't you, little one?" he crowed to his new dragon. He stroked her with his left hand, which is where his new gedwёy ignasia shimmered faintly.

"Lena, come over here!" Will invited. "I'm sorry none of them hatched for you."

"It's all right, Will," she dismissed, kneeling down next to him. "Can I pet her?"

"Of course!" Will declared, placing his new dragon right in Lena's lap. "Help me come up with some name ideas. We'll see if she likes any of them."

"Hmmm," Lena mused, gently stroking the baby dragon. "I don't know. Flame? Don't you think her pink streaks look like flames? But that doesn't feel quite right."

"I'm stealing your idea," Var quickly said. "Blackfire. That seems appropriate. What do you think?" he asked his dragon.

 _I like it_ , Blackfire answered. _I wonder what color my fire will be._

"I suppose only time will tell," Var said with a laugh, glancing back at Will and Lena, who were still silently contemplating a name.

"Her streaks _do_ look like flames," Will agreed. "But they're so faint compared to the black. Like smoldering embers. What do you think about Glimmer?"

"I like it!" Lena gushed. "Oh, but maybe you were asking her." She blushed.

Will laughed. "I was asking you, Lena. But now let's ask her. You do the honors. You provided the inspiration, after all."

Lena smiled again, grateful Will was including her so she didn't feel as left out. "Well, little one, do you like the name Glimmer?"

The small dragon blinked her eyes, which truly _did_ resemble glimmering pink gems nestled in a bed of glittering black coals. _It is a lovely name,_ she approved. _Thank you for your help, Lena. I sense that you will always hold a special place in my heart._

Lena raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Thank you, Glimmer. Why do you say that?"

"I bet I could guess," Will said with a grin before the dragon could respond. "But I'm not telling _you_! At least not yet." He stood up and took Lena's hand so he could pull her up with him. "Let's go feed her!" So they did.

* * *

 **A/N:** I happened to read somewhere that Paolini says the dragons choose their names, or name themselves, or something like that. So I revised the few parts in this story where it sounded like the new Rider named the dragon to make it more the dragon's choice, for those readers who know or care about that tidbit of information.


	9. Will

**FIFTEEN**

 **9\. Will**

Will was counting down the days until his sixteenth birthday, which was now just over a month away. Being fifteen had been fun—he and Var had almost finished building their ship this year—but he hadn't been this excited for a birthday since three years ago when he turned thirteen and thought he might become a Dragon Rider like Brom. Which he had, of course.

But that birthday was the last time Lena had come to the Isle to celebrate their mutual big day. And the fact that she was coming again this year was why he was so excited. They had seen her when visiting Alagaёsia, which visits were easier than ever with four dragons to transport their growing family. Will and Var could each ride with one of their younger twin sisters while their father and mother flew with the youngsters to keep them safe. But Will felt like their stays in Alagaёsia were never long enough, especially since they spent the majority of their time in the Bolvek village rather than Ilirea.

Will quickly finished his chores and studies and ran to Glimmer. He and Var had helped their father expand their quarters even more once two new dragons had joined the family. All four dragons—Sunset, Black Thunder, Glimmer, and Blackfire—now stayed with their Riders in the enormous room that made up the main living area of Varhog and Willow's quarters.

Will's mother had taken the youngest children with her to the gardens on this particular morning, and Will had asked if he could meet her there when he was finished with his other duties. Var was down working on the ship, which was where Will usually would have been too. But he had offered to do all of the chores so he could speak with his mother alone. He didn't want Var to know about this discussion just yet.

Glimmer flew him to the gardens, and Will jumped off after she landed. _Thanks, honey,_ he said, still referring to the almost three-year-old dragon like she was smaller than he since she was thirteen years younger.

 _You are welcome,_ honey, Glimmer playfully returned. Both Glimmer and Blackfire took after their mother more than their sire, and each were equally as warm and teasing as Sunset.

Will laughed and kissed her on her snout before heading into the rows of tall corn. He noticed his father playing off to one side with a swarm of little children around him and smiled. Will's father was easily the best father on the Isle, or so he thought. And the children seemed to love playing with him more than anyone else. Will was so glad he had started growing horns like his father, and he tried to be like Varhog in every way he could. He guessed that his mother had insisted his father play with the children so she could get some real work done, and he was sure his father had eagerly agreed.

Will smiled more widely and, since it was hard to see through the close-growing plants, called, "Mother?"

"I'm back here, Will," Willow answered.

Will felt his mother reach for his mind and followed her mental directions until he arrived at her side. He gave her a warm embrace and automatically began helping her pick ears of corn. Though it was only halfway through the year, the climate on the Isle allowed crops to grow year-round and this part of the corn field was ready to harvest. The Dragon Riders had continued their original pattern of self-sufficiency by planting, growing, harvesting, and preparing their own food.

"Mother, thank you for agreeing to meet with me," Will began. Then he laughed. "That sounded ridiculous."

Willow laughed along with him. "You don't need to set an appointment to talk to your own mother."

"No," Will said. "But I'm glad we can talk here and now. It's as private as we'll get on the Isle."

"Do I need to keep this a secret?"

"Maybe from Var." His mother raised her eyebrows. Will quickly added, "I'll tell him myself soon enough, but I wanted to talk to you about it first. You can tell father if you think he'd care."

"He'll care," Willow said. "He always wants to know how you boys are doing. All of the children. And now you're big enough to be men. I can't believe it!"

Will grinned. He and Var were now nearly as tall as Eragon and still growing. They had both been proud on the day they could stand next to their mother and see over her head. "It's only thanks to you, mother. You let us _both_ nurse until we were five. No small accomplishment."

Willow laughed. "No, indeed. But why did you ask for this specific favor? I'm dreadfully curious."

Will grew more serious and got right to the heart of the matter. "Mother, am I too young to know I'm in love with someone? I'm only fifteen."

"Almost sixteen," she corrected. "Not that you needed reminding." She smiled and thoughtfully considered his question for a moment. Finally she responded, "Do you know how old Eragon was when he first met Arya?"

"Sixteen," Will immediately answered. All of the Riders' children knew how their parents met.

"Yes," Willow said. "He may not have known right from the start that he would always love her, but it wasn't long after that he did. By the time he came here he was only eighteen, nearly nineteen, but at that point he was sure he would never love another woman. I don't think age necessarily means much when it comes to this. For some people, perhaps, but not Eragon."

"And not father," Will pointed out.

"Yes," his mother agreed. "He was older when he fell in love with me, but it was with the same level of devotion. I don't think you're too young, Will. You are enough like your father and Eragon—they have been the two most constant male examples in your life—that I can easily see you falling in love with the girl whom you'll love for the rest of your life. Who is it?"

"I'm sure you can guess," Will said with a grin.

"Perhaps," Willow said. "But I'd rather hear you say it. Unless you don't want me to know yet."

"I don't mind, mother. It's Lena, of course."

Willow smiled. "My little boy almost a man and in love. I suppose I should be feeling old."

"You'll never be old, mother," Will insisted, and his mother laughed softly. "But father is. He's almost _fifty_." He chuckled along with Willow. "Besides, I just _think_ I'm in love. I'm not exactly sure what it's like, but I'm so excited to see Lena that I'm about to burst. I like spending time with her more than anyone else. And it has been that way for years. She's so smart and thoughtful, but she knows how to tease. And she always laughs at my jokes."

"Because they're funny, Will," his mother said, still smiling.

"Thanks, mother. I want to give her something special on our birthday. Do you have any ideas?"

"Hmm," Willow mused. "Does she wear jewelry?"

"I don't know," Will said. "I've thought about making her a ring, but that might feel like too much commitment."

"Has Eragon ever told you about the rings he made for Roran and Katrina?" his mother asked.

"No. Were they special?"

"He enchanted them so that as long as the two were wearing them, they would always be able to find one another. They did a couple of other things as well. Roran and Katrina could use them to call Eragon or Saphira for help, or they would feel whether the other was close to death."

"That's interesting," Will said. "But Lena might not like a magical ring. You know how she feels about that sort of thing."

"You could make her a fairth," Willow suggested.

"Of what?" Will wondered.

"Anything," his mother said. "Or maybe you could ask Var to do one of you together. Or of her and Glimmer. Just some ideas. I'm sure you'll come up with something amazing."

"Thanks, mother," Will said. "Are you almost finished up here?"

"Yes, just about," Willow said. "You look anxious to be off. Where are you headed?"

"I want to write Lena a letter," Will answered. "And talk to Eragon. Let me take this for you. I'll unload it in the kitchens and take the wheelbarrow back to the storage sheds."

"Thank you, Will," his mother said as Will grabbed the wheelbarrow full of corn and made his way out of the field.

-:-:-:-

* * *

 **A/N:** In case you're curious, I always pictured Eragon to be 6'5" (about 1.98 meters) by the time he stopped growing (in _The Cycle Continues_ ). So at this point the twins are about 6'4".


	10. Disagree

**10\. Disagree**

Murtagh had never been more grateful to be home, and he knew Tomath felt the same. For the past three weeks they had been away from their wives and families, searching for the mysterious magician Tenga.

Murtagh had reluctantly agreed to go this last time, at his wife's insistence, but he resolved this would be his final attempt, no matter how upset it might make Nasuada.

The evidence that Tenga had put up residence near the north-western coast of Alagaёsia was more compelling than any previous rumors had suggested. Tomath and Murtagh had flown to the area and combed the land with their eyes, their minds, and magic. They had questioned the residents of the nearest cities—Narda, Therinsford, and Carvahall—but they were miles away, and in the latter two cases, over the Spine mountain range from the purported area. They had visited the smaller villages and settlements as well, but no one had any reliable information to share. No matter how he and Tomath had searched and investigated, they still came up empty-handed. Tenga wasn't there. Or if he was, he did an amazing job of hiding himself. And the fact that none of the inhabitants of this part of the land reported any problems or concern about the old magician was what made Murtagh so hesitant to keep searching.

He sighed as he unsaddled Thorn and put the equipment away in the stables. Murtagh shooed away the stable hands who approached to help, wanting to attend to the task alone before returning to his family. Tomath had just finished the same routine and murmured a quiet farewell before leaving the stables to return to the palace and his wife Elva. Murtagh raised a hand to wave, watching Tomath depart.

Tomath's dragon, the lovely white Snowfire, patiently waited in front of her handsome red mate until he was likewise free of his flying gear. Murtagh knew from Thorn's mind that the dragons were also relieved the trip was over and were looking forward to returning to their dwelling on the outcropping above Ilirea.

Then his mind reluctantly returned to his dilemma. Before he and Nasuada had married, she had begun to lose steam in her initial plans to create a society for magical enforcement. Her hope that Eragon would head it up had been dashed when he informed her that he was leaving Alagaёsia. And Murtagh had already gone at that point.

Nasuada's idea had been bold and ambitious. And she thought with the help of magicians in Du Vrangr Gata that she might be able to implement her desires. But without a really powerful magician to help her, Nasuada had been able to do very little along the lines of establishing an authoritative governance over magicians.

Then she had begun attempting to control the efforts of more gifted spellcasters like Tenga. And whenever she did, she lost magicians. The first four had been killed. Since then, they repeatedly disappeared.

By the time Nasuada and Murtagh married, Nasuada had all but given up hope that she would ever be able to regulate magical usage in Alagaёsia. But her initial fervor was reborn when she realized Murtagh might be willing to be the strong leader she needed to head up her society. As a Dragon Rider, he was a powerful magician. And he also knew the name of the ancient language, which Nasuada knew was a key element of magical usage for the majority of lesser magicians.

Murtagh had only cautiously agreed to his wife's wishes, warning her that he would never coerce a magician into obeying him in the way Galbatorix had forced him, especially if that magician seemed harmless. They had arrived at an acceptable compromise, and Murtagh's efforts had been largely successful at first. Most of the magicians he had to confront for magical abuse were terrified of him and immediately submitted to whatever guidelines he suggested.

But Nasuada was determined and thorough, and her desire as high queen of Alagaёsia to protect her non-magical subjects who were at the mercy of magicians around them had driven her onward in the implementation of her plan. She urged Murtagh to begin seeking out Tenga, and that had been the beginning of one of their most long-standing disagreements.

As far as Murtagh could tell, the old magician had never harmed anyone besides the four spellcasters he had killed the first time Nasuada sent someone after him, and Murtagh considered that self-defense. It seemed like Tenga was an old man with a desire to live in peace and solitude, and Murtagh perfectly understood such sentiments. So he was loath to disturb the hermit unless something in his behavior warranted the compulsory measures Nasuada had in mind.

Murtagh's biggest objection to Nasuada's goal was how similar it felt to what Galbatorix had done. Murtagh understood where Nasuada was coming from, but he also understood the other side of the equation more intimately than anyone else. He agreed that unscrupulous magicians should have a regulatory body they felt responsible to so as to provide them with some degree of accountability and restraint. But he felt that the Dragon Riders naturally fulfilled that role as they always had anciently and that there was no need for further meddling beyond that. Murtagh also agreed that magic gave those who could use it unfair advantages over those who couldn't.

But he drew the line in forcing someone who wasn't doing any harm. If a magician clearly intended to hurt or kill a defenseless being with their magical abilities, Murtagh had no problem stepping in and intervening, for such people could not be stopped in any other way and felt they answered to no one. But rare was the case where Murtagh had needed to resort to such measures. Most magicians were reasonable enough if he spoke to them in a calm, non-threatening way.

As he made his way into the palace, Murtagh resolved to discuss the matter with Nasuada. Again. He would no longer search for Tenga unless the man did something deserving of punishment.

Murtagh wasn't even through the main corridor before his children began swarming him, which effectively put the matter from his mind for a time. Lena and Ajh made it first, since they were the oldest. The younger ones pushed their way through with childlike determination, and after returning Lena's fervent hug and Ajh's tight squeeze, Murtagh knelt down to embrace the littler children.

"Hello, children," he greeted with a joyful smile. Small mouths kissed his cheek, and small arms squeezed his neck. "I missed you all so much!"

Many sweet voices answered him with delighted cries of "Dada!" and "Dada's home!" or "I love you, dada!" Murtagh laughed and scooped up the youngest there to greet him, though he had a baby girl as well.

"How are you, Ness?" he gently asked.

"Happy to see you, dada!" Ness exclaimed in her sweet, high voice.

"I'm so glad to see you too, sweetheart," Murtagh replied, hugging her tight and kissing her hair. He had often wondered why any man would choose to be a father like his father Morzan had been when the alternative resulted in this. Being a gentle, loving father had won Murtagh the love of his children, and it was the most amazing thing he had ever experienced to have five little people adore him so completely.

Murtagh turned to look at Lena, who was nearly sixteen and as beautiful as Nasuada. Lena had his blue eyes, though they had some of Nasuada's almond shape to them; her mother's long, thick black hair—which contained a gentler curl than Nasuada's tight coils; and a mesmerizing combination of his fair skin and Nasuada's ebony. "How is mother, Lena?"

"Well, father," Lena answered. "She will be glad you're home. It's tiring for her with the little baby and her other responsibilities. We were all awaiting the first news of your return, but she has been busy in a meeting all morning."

"Shall I go relieve her from her duties?" Murtagh asked with a twinkle in his eyes. "Then we can have lunch together as a family."

"I'm sure she would appreciate that," Lena agreed with a smile. "You know how long-winded some of the advisors are."

"Indeed I do," Murtagh said, laughing. "Come along, everyone." He put his arm around Lena's shoulders, and they continued on down the corridor.

-:-:-

That evening, after they had eaten dinner and the children were asleep, Murtagh and Nasuada snuggled together on their bed. They had already enjoyed an intimate reunion after the three weeks apart, which had begun after the baby finished nursing.

The baby was now sleeping contentedly on Murtagh's chest, while Nasuada also rested against him. He gazed down at the two beloved faces below him. "I missed you, my dear," Murtagh murmured.

"Me?" Nasuada asked with a sleepy smile. "Or the baby."

"You, Your Majesty," Murtagh teased.

Nasuada turned her face toward his, and Murtagh kissed her. "I missed you too, Your Highness."

"Lena told me how tired you've been," Murtagh said. "Do you now need to sleep?"

"Or what?" Nasuada asked.

"Or can we talk?" Murtagh clarified.

"We can talk. What about?"

"Tenga," Murtagh said, knowing he shouldn't waste time on frivolous small talk. But he also knew this time of day would be best for this discussion. Over fifteen years of marriage had taught Murtagh that his wife was most agreeable when she was content, sleepy, and relaxed.

"Did you find him?" Nasuada asked, a spark of excitement invigorating her tired voice.

"No, my dear," Murtagh gently replied. "And I'm not going looking again. I don't mean to upset you, but I simply see no reason for it. He hasn't done anything to deserve this relentless searching, and I fear he might grow weary of it and end up becoming exactly what we're hoping to avoid. Namely, a formidable enemy with bad intentions and the ability to carry them out."

"Wouldn't it be better to find him and ensure that such an outcome won't befall us?" Nasuada wondered with one of her usual arguments.

"No," Murtagh disagreed. "If we even _could_ find him, it would require me to use the name of the ancient language and all manner of coercive measures that I don't feel comfortable with. But there is a very good chance that Tenga can control magic without verbal command of the ancient language, in which case he might be a more powerful magician than even I am when relying on Thorn to strengthen me. I want to leave him alone. Can we agree to disagree on this?"

Nasuada looked up and regarded him carefully for a moment. She finally answered, "Very well. We shall agree to disagree. And I won't ask you to search for him again."

"Thank you, Nasuada. It means a lot to me."

"I'm grateful for all the times you have carried out my wishes though you might not have fully agreed."

"It's nice we can still get along though we don't necessarily see eye to eye on every fine detail," Murtagh observed.

"Yes," Nasuada agreed. "Where would it leave me if I always insisted on putting you out in the doghouse, as they say? Though perhaps dragon house might be more appropriate in this instance."

Murtagh chuckled. "Where indeed? It would feel a lot like these last three weeks did, and tonight was infinitely better than any of the nights I spent alone. Thorn is my closest friend, but his company doesn't come anywhere near rivaling yours. My arms feel empty without you in them."

"And I feel cold and lonely without them around me. Have you already checked on the children?"

"Not yet," Murtagh answered. She was referring to his habitual practice of using his mind to briefly check on each of their children before they retired. "But I will now so we can get some sleep."

"I'll need my energy for later on," Nasuada said with a coy smile.

Murtagh returned her smile and ascertained that all of his five children who weren't right there with them were safe and sound before dimming the Erisdar in their room so they would be able to drift off together.

-:-:-:-


	11. Lena

**11\. Lena**

Lena snuggled into the pillows on her ornate bed and reread the letter from Will for what must have been the fiftieth time.

 _Dear Lena,_

 _We're so thrilled you're coming to the Isle for our sixteenth birthdays next month. Everyone is really eager to see your whole family, but I'm most excited to see you._

Lena smiled. She was as excited as Will seemed to be about going to the Isle of the Eldunarí for a visit. Her family was getting large now—Lena had five younger siblings, two brothers and three sisters—but the trip would be possible with Tomath and Snowfire to help out. And Ajh of course.

Since the time Tomath and Elva had married five years earlier, Elva had never been able to have a child, though both she and Tomath longed to be parents. Lena hadn't understood much about the situation until more recently, and it was then she learned that there were many opinions regarding Elva's misfortune.

Lena was never one to trust rumors, so she had gone straight to Elva and asked for greater understanding. Elva had explained that she was unsure why her body couldn't maintain a pregnancy. She had conceived many times, but the pregnancy always ended prematurely. Elva thought it might have something to do with the accelerated growth she had inflicted on herself as a baby. More than that however, Elva feared that her body had a deep mental terror of bringing a child into a world so full of pain and sorrow, something Elva was able to experience on such an intimate level when she allowed herself to.

She and Tomath were learning that if she prevented herself from feeling anyone else's suffering, her pregnancies seemed to last longer. But if she used her ability even slightly, her body would immediately begin rejecting the pregnancy. Elva had told Lena that she was working to master her gift even further so she could completely ignore any perceptions of hurt or anguish. She and Tomath had also discussed living somewhere more remote so the temptation would be easier to resist. They hoped these measures would enable her to carry a pregnancy long enough that the baby would have a chance to survive when born.

Since they had no children of their own traveling with them, Tomath, Elva, and Snowfire had room for additional passengers and would be able to help transport Lena's large family. Thorn was obviously strong enough to carry them all, but it was difficult for Lena's parents to keep track of six children on the back of one dragon.

So the two middle children would ride with Tomath and Elva, while the two youngest would stay with their father and mother on Thorn. Ajh and Lena would ride his dragon.

Lena sighed. Ajh had become a Dragon Rider the year before when Snowfire's first egg had hatched for him. Ajh had named the dragon Berry, since some of his favorite desserts were made with cream and strawberries. When finished, the delicacies looked remarkably like the dragon's coloring—pale pink with red streaks. Ajh was always thinking about things in terms of food, but Lena wasn't surprised, for that was what Angela had instructed him to master.

The year before Ajh had been chosen was the dwarves' year. That Choosing Ceremony had taken place in Tronjheim under the guardianship of the dwarf Riders. And it was no real surprise to anyone that the dragon chose Keeta, the oldest daughter of Knilf and Greta, just a few months after her thirteenth birthday.

So five of the children of Dragon Riders were now Dragon Riders themselves, all chosen the year they turned thirteen. But not Lena. She had stopped feeling resentful the year she turned fourteen, but when Berry had hatched for Ajh just after her fifteenth birthday, Lena had felt a full resurgence of her jealousy. Was she somehow unworthy? Was that why she hadn't ever been chosen?

Now almost a year later, Lena was back to the comfortable place of being fine with the way things were. Angela continued to visit her in a dream every birthday with the same insistent reminder to sharpen her mind and figure out how to solve difficult problems. Lena assumed that whatever she was being prepared for had nothing to do with being a Dragon Rider.

She continued reading.

 _I hope you have been doing well there. I'm sorry to hear about how some of the youth in Ilirea feel about us younger Dragon Riders. What if they're right . . . ? I'm only teasing. But we should talk to our parents about how we could change that. Maybe if they had a chance to interact with us, they wouldn't think we're arrogant or self-absorbed. And they might better_ _understand that we don't have anything to do with being chosen._

 _It would be fun to do something like a camp, where we invite the youth from the different races to spend a few days or so with all of us younger Dragon Riders. We could teach them a little of what we learn and give them rides on our dragons. Things like that. It might work to have a camp like this right after the Choosing Ceremony each year, since all of the youth are already gathered anyway. Then those who didn't get chosen wouldn't feel so disappointed that they came all that way for nothing. If you think your parents might be open to it, mention it. Then we can all talk about it in more detail when you get here._

Lena paused for a moment and thought again about Will's idea. The more she considered it, the more she agreed that something like what he suggested might be really fun and really helpful. She decided to ask her father and discuss it with the other youth when they got to the Isle. The next Choosing Ceremony would be happening in Ellesméra about a month after the birthdays, and many of the inhabitants of the Isle were already planning on going for it. Maybe they would be able to quickly plan something to happen afterwards.

The letter went on, _We have a lot of fun things planned for your visit to try to make it special, since you're coming for your (our) sixteenth birthday. Var and I came up with some saddles for the dragons that can be used for swimming. They're really light and basically just protect our legs from the scales since we don't want to wear riding boots or leather pants while swimming. They also make it easier to stay on the dragons' backs while they dive and swim around. They can seat more than one passenger, so you'll have to try it out with me. We'll play some games to see how big of a splash we can make._

 _Mother and Aunt Arya also finally talked us (the males) into having a dance. All of the girls wanted to straightaway, of course. We were all more reluctant, but Zadí and Keeta and Brin and Hanna were all desperate, so we gave in. Aren't we so gallant? Teasing, again. But I suppose it will be fun if you'll be my first partner. Will you? The elves have been teaching me and Var how to dance so we don't look like bumbling fools. I think I still will, but if I'm dancing with you, no one will notice me so it won't matter. Brom and Nefin are naturals, of course. But if they ever tease us about it, we can still easily pin them to the ground in about half a second._

Lena giggled. Will was always making her laugh. He and Var were really good fighters, though Brom and Nefin were so quick. But she was more amused picturing him dancing. She already knew she would definitely agree to be his first partner and hopefully be able to dance with him a lot more than only at first.

Will's next words were, _The girls are doing well. Willow and Monrow are really excited to see you too. They remember how we all used to play house when we were younger. And Ray is getting bigger. He just turned three. It's funny when he pretends to wrestle with me or Var. Kind of like when we try to wrestle with father. Someday we might be that big, but not yet. The baby is so adorable. She just starting to walk and jabbers nonstop, just like Var and I used to do, or so mother says. She and father are already talking about the next one. It seems like they're more in love every day, and I'm glad they seem to like having so many children. It's fun being a big brother to so many younger siblings. Var and I think it's good practice for the day we get to be fathers._

One thing Lena liked most about Will was how kind he was to his younger siblings and how much he seemed to enjoy being a brother. She had often noticed how respectfully he treated his mother and knew it was because Will and Var learned from the perfect example of their father Varhog.

The last few lines of the letter read, _My horns are almost to the back of my head now. Father told me his began curling down when he was seventeen, so only a little over a year away. We still don't know if we'll do the Urgals' initiation tradition to prove our courage. We'd obviously have to do it without our dragons. And alone. That'd probably be harder than killing a wolf or bear, which neither Var nor I want to do after learning how to meditate like the Riders._

 _I hope you get this before you leave. And that you'll arrive here safely. I'm counting down the days._

 _I don't know if I should say "Love," or "Sincerely," or what._

 _Your friend,_

 _Will_

The smile that always covered Lena's face when she finished Will's letter was there once again. She asked herself the same thing. Should he say "Love, Will"? What would she think of that? Lena knew it would make her heart flutter if he did. That he was even contemplating it _already_ made her heart flutter. But the familiar worry also revisited her. What would her father and mother think if she admitted that she liked—and maybe even loved—a part human, part Urgal boy? Would such a match be appropriate for the crown princess of Alagaёsia?

She glanced at the clock on her desk and realized that her father would be mentally checking on her soon. He did that every night. With the younger ones, he just always did and they never really knew the difference. But once she had begun to recognize it happening when she was about six, her father had asked her permission to continue, and he had done the same once any of her siblings had reached the same age.

Lena had agreed of course. She loved the reassurance of having her father check on her every night. Many nights she was already asleep when it happened. But other nights she was still aware enough to feel the familiar tone of his mind briefly touching hers to make sure she was safe and sound and where she should be. Tonight she knew there was no way she would be able to pretend she was asleep before he checked, and she didn't want to anyway. He had only arrived home from his three week trip a couple of days earlier, and she wanted to talk to her father that night.

Though Lena couldn't communicate with her mind as the Dragon Riders learned to, she knew if she simply thought her desire, her father would get the message.

So after another couple of minutes had passed and she felt her father's mind reaching for hers, Lena thought, _Can I talk to you tonight, father?_

Lena felt her father's surprise and then his answering thought, _Of course, sweetheart. I'll be right there._


	12. A Father's Wisdom

**12\. A Father's Wisdom**

Less than a minute later Lena heard the soft knock on her door indicating her father's arrival. "Come in," she called.

He let himself in and crossed to her bed. Lena slipped Will's letter under her pillow and scooted over to indicate her desire that he sit with her.

As he sat, Murtagh smiled teasingly and said, "Up late entertaining love letters?"

Lena blushed and knew he would notice. Her father had told her that he had come to recognize when her mother—whose skin was far darker than hers—blushed, so Lena knew it would be more than obvious on her lighter skin.

"Maybe," she evasively replied, snuggling into her father's outstretched arms to lean against his chest. "I'm starting to get too big for this."

"Even if you grow to be as tall as I am, I'll always let you sit in my lap," Murtagh promised as he softly stroked her hair, which wasn't quite as dark or curly as her mother's but just as long and thick. She knew her father loved her mother's hair, and he seemed to feel the same about Lena's, which made her feel special.

Lena giggled. "Thank you, father. Though I hope I won't get quite that tall. I'd have to find a Kull to marry."

Her father chuckled. "Most non-Kull Urgals are quite tall, you know. Even some part human Urgals, last time I checked."

Lena blushed again and kept her eyes down. How did he always know exactly how to goad her? It sometimes seemed like he could read her mind even when he wasn't!

She cleared her throat then wished she hadn't, for it was further confirmation—in addition to her blush—that he was right on track with his lighthearted teasing.

But she was grateful her father didn't press the issue right then. "What's on your mind, sweetheart?" he asked. "You don't often request that I come like this."

"A lot of things," Lena honestly answered, though she knew her vague reply wasn't very helpful.

So her father guessed what might be one of the topics. "Mother told me that today was a special day for you."

Lena glanced up at him and grinned awkwardly. She knew he was referring to the fact that she had experienced the beginning of her first menstrual cycle that afternoon. Could she talk with her father about that? She already knew she could. "Yes, I suppose you could say that."

He returned her grin, and the way his eyes twinkled merrily told Lena that he was planning on teasing her more so she wouldn't feel so awkward. "How do you think it makes me feel to know you might make me a grandfather in a few years?"

Lena snickered and teased right back, "You _are_ getting rather elderly, so I suppose it's only appropriate."

Murtagh laughed and gave her a gentle squeeze. "I'm so glad you've always understood my sense of humor. I can't believe my baby girl is becoming such a beautiful young woman."

"Thank you, father," Lena said, hugging him in return. Her heart was full of love and gratitude that she had a father like him. He was so kind, wise, and good. She felt like she could talk to him about anything and that he would always make her feel comfortable and important.

"How do you feel?" Murtagh then asked.

"Fine," Lena said. "A little achy, but mother told me that's normal."

"I'm so glad you have her to help you understand," her father said. "I remember what it was like for Aunt Willow when this happened. She was surrounded by men. She told me and Eragon, but we were clueless about how to help her. Mother has so often been pregnant or breastfeeding during our marriage that I've rarely known her to have a menstrual cycle. Every girl should have a mother like yours or Aunt Arya or Aunt Willow to help her understand her body. It seems this otherwise mysterious cycle is much less troublesome then."

Lena nodded in agreement. "But you needn't worry about soon becoming a grandfather. I won't become a mother before first becoming a wife, and I doubt that will happen anytime in the near future."

"Oh no?" her father teased. "You don't think any young men fancy the lovely, gracious crown princess?"

Lena rolled her eyes. "Plenty _seem_ to. But it always seems like they do only because I _am_ the crown princess. I'd rather have someone fancy me for who I am as a person rather than my possible future political status. Besides, I may never even become queen if you and mother decide to stay around forever."

Murtagh laughed, and Lena continued, "My children might pass away before you if that happens. Especially since it seems that I'm doomed never to become a Dragon Rider."

Her father's eyes saddened. "I don't think mother and I want to stay around forever, though we could. But you could always _marry_ a Dragon Rider. That's one possible solution."

Lena quickly glanced at him. "True," she allowed. The knowing look in his eyes suggested that he could once again guess her thoughts about his remark, but he courteously refrained from pressing her. She was glad he seemed content to let her broach that topic when she was ready, which wasn't right then.

So she changed the subject. "That has been bothering me lately."

Her father smiled patiently at her ambiguous statement and once again tried to guess her meaning. "Not becoming a Dragon Rider?"

"No," she said, clarifying, "How youth my age in Ilirea view all of my friends and cousins who have become Dragon Riders. They don't understand what amazing people they are. They think Brom, Will, Var, and Keeta must have only been chosen since their parents are Dragon Riders, especially since the three boys all got chosen the same year. They think the young Dragon Riders must be arrogant because they're so isolated from us here. Like they're too good to interact with people who aren't Dragon Riders. It helped a little when Ajh got chosen, since they know him better and know he's not like that. And since I wasn't chosen before him. But they're still jealous. Like I used to be."

" _Used_ to be?" her father echoed.

"Yes, used to be," Lean repeated. "I'm not resentful anymore. It was hard when Ajh was chosen. Then I really felt like something must be wrong with me and I might not be good enough. But even that doesn't bother me now. You have helped me see that my contribution to the land must not require me to be a Dragon Rider. I've prayed about it and felt further confirmation. Angela's dreams also seem to support that notion."

"Have you received any impressions of what your contribution might be?"

"I think it might have something to do with magical enforcement," Lena carefully responded. "And I can see how I would be useless to that end—or at least feel a serious conflict of interest—if I could use magic. I'm not sure how I could help, but that seems to be a constant concern for mother. And despite that, she never gets much closer to accomplishing her objective of regulating magicians." She hesitantly glanced at her father. "I can't help but feel like she's approaching it wrong, but I'm not sure how to express that to her. Especially since she's so much wiser and more experienced when it comes to this."

"Don't underestimate yourself, Lena," her father seriously said. "You have grown up under different circumstances than she did. For one thing, your father is a magician." He smiled wryly.

Lena smiled too. "Yes. And I've been able to see that magic use doesn't get out of control when the Dragon Riders perform their job in the land as they're meant to. You and Tomath have always been able to settle any disputes that arise when an unscrupulous spellcaster tries to overstep his bounds or harm a non-magic person. I suppose in that sense mother's goals have been successful, but only because she happened to marry a Dragon Rider who also knows the name of the ancient language and can therefore perform his duty of establishing peace in the land even more effectively. None of her magicians before had the same effect."

Her father nodded silently to allow her to continue. Lena could see he agreed with her. "And since you _do_ know the name of the ancient language, if those spellcasters continue to willfully rebel and refuse to follow the law, you can deal with the situation accordingly. Whether by removing their wards or in some other way taking away the unfair advantage magic gives them. But you never do it in the way Galbatorix meant to. You never impose your will on them unless it is clear that they'll refuse to stop harming people. And your will is always just and fair."

Lena paused thoughtfully then added, "As far as I can tell, the majority of magicians really aren't strong enough to do much damage. And most of them only use their abilities for good. Like you and the other Dragon Riders. Or the elves. Those rare few who _are_ strong enough to do damage and who also have the intention of doing so are now easily dealt with by the Dragon Riders. Even magicians powerful enough to create a Shade are no longer as much of a threat as they once were. It's a small matter for a handful of Dragon Riders to overcome a Shade. And the Ra'zac, especially since the rumors of their resurfacing hint that they're only in their pupae stage and haven't yet become Lethrblaka."

Lena could see that her father was impressed. "I'm proud of you for noticing and making all of these connections, Lena. I agree with you. I have expressed my views to mother on a number of occasions. I believe she has been more open to them in recent years, but it has been a gradual process. We actually passed an important milestone for the first time only a couple nights ago. But she still can't seem to identify where the true problem lies. At least in my opinion."

"And where is that, father?" Lena wondered.

"Can you not guess?"

Lena smiled. Her father always encouraged her to come to her own conclusions without influencing them with his opinions. She sat up slightly and began thinking aloud, which helped her reason through confusing or difficult problems. "Well, the most threatening magical forces in recent years have been King Galbatorix and King Kulkarvek. And both were defeated by Dragon Riders. But both also might not have been as threatening in and of themselves."

She began gesturing animatedly as she always did when uncovering a solution. "I'm sure the other Dragon Riders would have easily subdued Galbatorix if not for the Eldunarí. And Kulkarvek only became as formidable as he was _because_ of a curse performed through the magic of the dragons! The Eldunarí threw off the balance!" Lena triumphantly regarded her father.

Her father approvingly raised his eyebrows. "You have been a most attentive student in your history lessons. Is that all, do you suppose?"

Lena realized there must be more. So she kept thinking out loud, "But the Eldunarí can't perform magic themselves whenever they want. At all, actually, unless they have an instrument to give their magic expression, as was the case when Galbatorix cursed Kulkarvek or Uncle Eragon cursed Galbatorix. And even dragons with flesh bodies aren't very big magical threats because they can only perform magic sporadically. And it would be unusual for them to want to do something harmful to another living being, as so often seems to be the case with humans. But the Eldunarí only did as Galbatorix commanded because they were forced into submission. Like you!" she exclaimed as the revelation hit her and she understood why her father had arrived at this conclusion so much sooner. He might have actually _always_ felt this way since he—of all the Dragon Riders—was the only with firsthand experience of being forced against his wishes to obey Galbatorix's wicked will.

"Yes, Lena," Murtagh gravely agreed. "Like me."

"So the true problem with magic usage isn't immoral or misguided magicians using their abilities wrongly," Lena concluded. "It comes from them unnaturally gaining power from the dragons through coercion—because the dragons would never perpetrate such evil by choice—and using their excessive might to force others. The undeserved strength of the Eldunarí gave Galbatorix the power to stand against all of the other Dragon Riders. Otherwise they would have never let things go so far."

"That's how I see it."

"So is it really even a problem anymore?" Lena asked. "I mean, all of the Eldunarí are accounted for and safe on the Isle, right? And with you and Uncle Eragon as the most senior Riders, the Dragon Riders will be unlikely to experience a repeat of _that_ particular problem."

"One can never be too sure, Lena," Murtagh cautioned. "Complacency led the ancient Riders to their downfall. I will always do my best to ensure that peace continues to abide in Alagaёsia, and I know I can speak for many of the other Dragon Riders as well. But even _I_ can't seem to regulate _all_ of the magicians."

Lena saw the worry in his eyes and heard it in his voice. "Do you mean Tenga?" She had often heard her parents and the royal advisors, as well as the more senior Dragon Riders, discuss a powerful magician named Tenga.

Apparently whenever her father and Tomath—for they always went together after Tenga—went seeking him, he would completely disappear. They only had rumors to go on, but sightings of Tenga had been increasing in recent years and Lena's mother worried he was gathering a following of magicians who opposed her regulatory measures.

"Yes, I mean Tenga," her father verified. "From all accounts he is both very powerful and mentally unstable, not a good combination if Galbatorix and Kulkarvek were anything to judge by. But we have no idea how to find him. We also don't know if we—Tomath and I—are strong enough with our dragons to stand against him."

"But wouldn't you be strong enough with more Dragon Riders?" Lena asked. "Though Tenga is tremendously old, surely he's not strong enough to stand against twenty or more Dragon Riders."

"I don't know, sweetheart," Murtagh said. "These old magicians learn many secrets. He has surely learned how to draw off the energy of living beings around him. If he had no conscience, he might not hesitate to do that to enhance or sustain his own ability, though it would end the lives of many innocent creatures. But aside from his constant evasions, we have no reason to believe that he means to harm anyone. It may be that he simply prefers to live his life in peace, as an undisturbed hermit. I can actually understand that, and I can see how having someone constantly coming after him when he has done nothing wrong would be irksome. This is one point on which your mother and I disagree, though she finally consented to my decision not to seek him out anymore."

Lena knew her father wasn't telling her to agree or disagree with him. He was simply stating his views and would allow her to believe whatever she thought was best, valuing her opinion even if it differed from his.

"But at least the Eldunarí are safe in this instance," she pointed out as she began stroking the large werecat—who was the current royal guest—that jumped up on her bed.

"True," Murtagh agreed, eyeing the cat uncomfortably.

"Why did you look at the cat that way, father?"

"Werecats can communicate with every member of their race through a mental link, no matter the distance. I have sometimes worried that if that ability became widely known, they might also be forced to serve some twisted purpose against their wills, just as I or the Eldunarí were."

"How awful," Lena worried, petting the cat's ears.

 _I would not betray you, Your Highness,_ the werecat mentally promised for both of them to hear.

"I believe you," Murtagh replied. "At least that you would never _willingly_ betray me. Elva has ensured us that your presence is not a threat to my family. But coercion seems to lie at the heart of most evil plans. Forcing someone to do something they don't want to do appears to give certain types of people a perverse sort of pleasure and false sense of power."

"Is there any way to guarantee that such a fate wouldn't befall the Eldunarí again?" Lena wondered. "It seems like their power was the source—though against their wills, as you say—of most of the sorrow in this land for the past hundred or so years."

"So it seems," her father agreed. "I don't know, Lena. I've never been able to think of a way, unless the dragons themselves could perform a spell. It seems something of that magnitude would be necessary, but the magic of the dragons can't be called upon at will. It only emerges if a strong enough emotion inspires it. Perhaps coming up with a way to make this happen will be your contribution to the land, as you put it. And a significant contribution it would be."

Lena struggled to suppress a huge yawn, but her father clearly noticed. "It's getting quite late. And we're planning on an early start tomorrow. Are you excited to visit the Isle and see all of your cousins again? And _friends?_ " He gave her a teasing grin.

She smiled in return. "Yes, very. In the letter Will sent me, he suggested that we discuss holding some type of camp. Basically a time when other youth in Alagaёsia would have an opportunity to interact with the young Dragon Riders and get a glimpse into what their lives are like. He thought that might help ease some of the hard and bitter feelings I told him about."

"That sounds fun."

"Do you think mother would agree?"

"Most likely," Murtagh said. "Shall we discuss it with all of the Dragon Riders when we get to the Isle?"

"Yes," Lena said, pulling on a lock of her hair and twisting it through her fingers. Lena saw in her father's eyes that he knew she hadn't ever addressed the main concern on her mind, though their lengthy discussion had covered many weighty topics. "How is it that you always seem to be able to read my mind?" she demanded in exasperation. " _Are_ you reading my mind? Can you somehow do that without me knowing?"

He gave her a loving squeeze. "No, sweetheart. I'm not aware of any magician who can do that. Well, save Brom perhaps, if I correctly understand what Eragon tells me. But if I could, I still never would. I simply know something is still weighing on your mind because I'm your father and have known you longer than anyone save mother. I was the first to touch you when you were born, and we've always had a special bond." His eyes began twinkling again. "And you always start playing with your hair whenever you're nervous about something."

Lena immediately stopped her nervous habit, tightly clasping her hands in her lap.

Her father chuckled. "It's all right, Lena. I understand. I also love playing with your hair. It's so much like mother's. But you can tell me anything and I won't be upset. Even if you told me that you _will_ be making me a grandfather in only a matter of months, I still wouldn't be angry with you."

"I know, father," Lena said. "And it's nothing like that. Maybe only slightly related." She flushed. "That's not what I meant. Only that it's about a boy, but you already seemed to guess that."

Her father dipped his head in agreement.

"Oh, I'll just get right to the point," she said, her exasperation now self-directed. "I like Will, father. _Really_ like him. Maybe even love him. And he seems to feel the same. But I've always worried you might not approve, since I'm the crown princess and he's part human, part Urgal. I guess that's it. It seems rather silly now that I've put it in words, but . . ." She trailed off, feeling slightly self-conscious.

But she needn't have and she knew it. Her father smiled more broadly and said, "You would think that I'd feel more concerned as a protective, doting father. But nothing could make me happier than hearing you confess that, Lena."

Lena raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Really?"

"Really," he confirmed. "Have you ever noticed how Uncle Varhog treats Aunt Willow?"

"Yes."

"Or how Will and Var treat their mother?" her father continued. "Or their younger sisters, for that matter? Or you? Or any other female? They are perfect gentlemen. Actually, they're more than that. The only others who might even come close to matching the level of devotion Varhog feels for Willow are Uncle Eragon and myself. But that might be a stretch. Uncle Varhog takes the definition of loyalty to his wife to a completely new level. And I know for certain that if there's one thing he has taught his sons, it is exactly that. Uncle Eragon and I have often discussed how we would like nothing more than to see our oldest daughters win the affection of one of Varhog's twins because we know they're bound to be precisely the kind of husband he is.

"So there you have it. Not only do I approve of the fact that you like and maybe even love Will, but I'm thrilled to hear it and hope it leads right to you marrying him. If he truly does feel the same and comes to me seeking my permission for your hand—as I'm sure he will, since Varhog would require it of him—I will most definitely give it."

Lena stared disbelievingly at her father for a moment. Then she threw her arms around him. "That was easy," she said with a delighted laugh. But her anxiety temporarily returned as she said, "And it doesn't bother you that he's part Urgal? Or that we have always considered ourselves cousins?"

"No, Lena. It has been _many_ years since I've felt any animosity toward the Urgal race. Willow and Varhog helped us all overcome that. And though I have always felt like Willow was as close to me as a real sister by birth would have been, we technically aren't related by blood. Those boys aren't your real cousins, as I'm sure you long ago discerned."

"Yes, but would mother feel the same? Though you approve of the idea, would it be wise for the future queen to marry a part Urgal Dragon Rider?"

"The _current_ queen is married to an increasingly elf-like Dragon Rider," her father pointed out. "Thankfully those concerns need no longer trouble you, Lena. That is what Willow and Varhog fought for. They fought to put an end to the unnecessary enmity that existed for so long between their two races. Peace and goodwill between Urgals and humans has never been more sincere or enduring than it has these past fifteen years."

"Thank you, father," Lena earnestly said. "Part of me knew I didn't need to worry about that, but the other part of me still worried anyway. I don't know if Will has any intention of saying or doing anything along the lines of what you implied. We're still really young. But it's reassuring to know I have your support. As in everything. I love you so much." She tightened her arms around him as tears squeezed out of her eyes.

Her father again stroked her hair. "I love you too, sweetheart. Hearing you say that is the best gift you could ever give me. I think any father would agree. I feel blessed every day to have such an amazing family. And I'm so proud of the strong, intelligent, determined, _good_ young woman you are becoming. Alagaёsia need never fear another unsolvable dilemma again with you preparing to follow in your mother's footsteps."

Lena pulled back to look at him, another yawn escaping her, which she couldn't smother at all. She smiled sheepishly. "I guess I really am tired. Thank you for coming tonight, father. I feel so much better."

Her father kissed her forehead. "Thank you for asking, Lena. You know I'm always here for you. I'll let you get some sleep. Though an early start is our goal, if it doesn't happen quite like that—with all the needs of so many little ones—we'll just head off when we're ready and fly as long as we're able."

Lena scooted away from him, and her father stood to go. "Good night, father," she whispered.

"Goodnight, Lena," he replied, closing the door behind himself as he left.

-:-:-:-


	13. Showing Off

**13\. Showing Off**

The red, white, and pink dragons arrived on the Isle of the Eldunarí a week before the twins and Lena's sixteenth birthday. The youth immediately began implementing all of the plans Will had told Lena about in his letter.

After a grand feast the first evening, the next afternoon the young Dragon Riders and their peers nearest in age—Brom, Var, Will, Lena, Nefin, Keeta, Brin, Ajh, Zadí, and Hanna—flew to Lake Arya to go swimming. Though Brin's closest siblings, Ginnee and Bentuk, were older than Hanna, they preferred to spend their time with their parents, younger brothers, and other friends their age. They felt less a part of the group of ten youth—though they were never excluded—since they hadn't ever seen Angela in a birthday dream.

When these ten arrived at the lake, the young people enjoyed a picnic on the beach. Then the Dragon Riders removed the flying saddles from their dragons and replaced them with the swimming saddles Will and Var had designed. The riding arrangements were Brom and Brin on Talon, Var and Zadí on Blackfire, Will and Lena on Glimmer, Nefin and Keeta on her dragon Lightning, and Ajh and Hanna on Berry.

Once everyone was ready, the dragons took to the skies only long enough to fly above the lake and surround it at equally spaced intervals. On Brom's mental cue, the five dragons dove toward the water at the same time with the goal of creating the biggest splash they possibly could. And though none of the youth could be sure, since they were all underwater at the time, they estimated that the water shot fifty feet in the air when the five dragons collided with it.

After a couple of hours of lighthearted fun and endless teasing, the group headed back to the stronghold.

Ajh insisted on getting his nine peers' help preparing a feast to rival the one that had occurred the evening before. Everyone was duly impressed with Ajh's amazing abilities, as experienced in each and every one of the seven courses he planned and prepared.

-:-:-

The next night the group of young Riders and their more experienced parents gathered to discuss Will and Lena's proposal, which was to begin holding Dragon Rider Youth Camps at the conclusion of each Rider Choosing Ceremony in Alagaёsia. Lena explained that she thought it might help the youth in Alagaёsia better understand the process of how Dragon Riders were chosen, giving them an opportunity to meet and interact with the young Dragon Riders, which she hoped would ease the jealous and bitter feelings held by some of her peers in Alagaёsia.

The adults agreed with her that such an event might be beneficial for the young people of Alagaёsia. They nominated the young Dragon Riders and their five closest friends to oversee the planning and implementation of these Camps with minimal adult supervision. They briefly discussed whether or not the proposed Camps would interfere with the Games held every other year in Ilirea, but since the Games occurred directly before the Choosing Ceremonies, they determined there wouldn't be a conflict. All of the youth would have time to return to their homes before the Choosing Ceremony began, and the Camps would be held in the capitol cities of each of the races, which was where the young people already traveled for the Choosing Ceremony.

Since the next Rider Choosing Ceremony—which was for the elves—was being held so soon, they elected to hold the first true Youth Camp the following year at the Urgal Choosing Ceremony, which now took place in the Bolvek village rather than Anghelm, as Lake Fläm was more centrally located between the various Urgralgra clans.

This worked well, for the Elf Choosing Ceremony in Ellesméra would be attended by elves as old as a hundred. There were comparatively so few elven youth that the age range for Dragon Rider candidates was much broader. And the elves felt no resentment or misunderstanding about so many Dragon Riders' children being chosen, since they knew so much more about Dragon Riders and their ways than any of the other races.

The group then decided to still have the young Dragon Riders journey to Ellesméra for the purpose of having their weapons crafted by Rhunön the elf smith. This created a great deal of excitement among the next generation of Dragon Riders, for Rhunön's fame was even greater in their minds than it ever had been for their parents.

In the days leading up to the birthday celebration, the young people spent a fair amount of time preparing for the dance, which would be the culminating event of the party. The girls fussed over how they would style their hair and what their dresses would look like. Wearing a dress would be a new experience for all of them save Lena and Zadí, who particularly loved dressing up to dance, since the female children of Dragon Riders usually wore the same leather leggings their Dragon Rider mothers did.

The males didn't worry as much about what they would wear as whether they would look like fools. And mainly Will and Var held this concern, for they were the least naturally coordinated of the five boys. Brom and Nefin had the grace of the elves working in their favor, while Ajh had the advantage of growing up in a royal court where he was expected to know how to dance.

-:-:-

When they weren't engaged pursuing these activities, Will and Var took great pride in showing off their ship to their friends. It was in the final stages of completion, and the twins were excited for the day when they would first be able to put their ten years' worth of studying and learning to the test and sail their vessel.

On one such occasion, Keeta demonstrated her unique ability to organize details, take inventory, and manage tedious facts and figures. As the twins were waxing eloquent about every minute detail of ship-building and sailing, Keeta performed a careful scrutiny of the craft.

"Show me the sleeping quarters," she requested.

So the twins led the small group down to the berth cabin, where hammocks would be hung in the evening.

Keeta then said, "And is there enough room for all of the bedding and clothing necessary for a long journey? You _do_ expect to take this on a long journey at some point, right? Or is there somewhere to wash the laundry?"

Var and Will looked at each other. "Well, there is a laundry room," Will said. "But we haven't thought much about supplies."

Unperturbed, Keeta continued, "Where is the kitchen?"

"The galley," Var corrected. "It's this way."

They went down another level to what the twins referred to as the Orlop Deck. When the group arrived, Var continued, "We built all of the cabinets. This bar will keep the cook from stumbling into a hot cooking stove while sailing." He began detailing all of the other features in the galley.

"Have you planned how much food you would need for a journey of a month? How about three, six, or twelve months?" Keeta asked. "And the amounts you would need to pack would of course depend on how many people would be coming along. Most of it would need to be dry storage foods. Fresh plant or dairy foods won't last long on a ship unless you have some amazing way of keeping them cool, or you simply plan to grow them and bring live animals. Which would require their own store of supplies. Ajh might have some valuable input on seasonings, spices, and other food items that would dress up an otherwise bland and monotonous menu. And more important even than that is whether you have plenty of space to store fresh drinking water."

Brom quietly inserted, "I would imagine I could come up with a way to magically reduce the salinity of sea water until it was acceptable to drink. By removing the salt or something. I can practice if you think it would be helpful." He questioningly raised his eyebrows, glancing first at Keeta then the twins.

"Well, there's storage room in the cargo hold," Will said, "which is just on the other side of the ladder we used to get down here. We can store water caskets and other supplies there. But that kind of spell might also be useful. I guess it would depend on how long of a trip and if we ever stopped to replenish supplies. But those are details none of us can even begin to guess." Brom nodded, apparently satisfied.

The twins stared at each other before looking down at Keeta. Will said, "As far as the rest goes, we need your help, Keeta. You're the expert at stuff like that. Calculating and organizing and planning. We _do_ think we'll actually need to use this ship at some point, odd as it sounds, since we have dragons and all. And our best guess is that everyone who has dreams with Angela will be coming with us for some reason. Which would make ten people."

Keeta replied, "I'd be happy to help! You know how much I love planning the boring details. All of the math and figures are my passion in the same way that ship-building is yours, or mind control is Brom's." She smiled cheerfully at Brom. "Or charming persuasion is Zadí's." She winked at Zadí. "Or being alarmingly lethal is Brin's." She laughed merrily, elbowing her best friend in the thigh, which was all the higher her dwarf height could reach on the tall Urgal girl.

"You know it's not my passion," Zadí grumbled, uncomfortable as always that Angela had instructed her to learn how to be charismatic and win people over with her natural beauty and charm.

Brin agreed, "Nor would I have chosen to learn how to kill someone in three dozen ways with half a dozen weapons or only my body. Based on life experience, I'm preparing to become a mother of twenty, not a deadly assassin."

Everyone laughed. Though the two girls were as skilled at their particular talents as any of the rest of them, they were the least enthusiastic about their unique abilities.

"Thanks, Keeta!" Will exclaimed. "Consult with Ajh while he's here so we can make sure he isn't griping everyday about all of the cooking ingredients or kitchen gadgets he has to live without." Ajh laughed.

"Oh, I will," Keeta promised. "There won't be a detail unattended to with me in charge."

"And this reminds me," Var said. "We want to practice with everyone whenever we can. The ship isn't quite ready to sail, but when it is, we want everyone to come with us so we can begin teaching you. There's too much for just the two of us to do all at once, especially in stormy weather."

The others assumed similar expressions of approval or excitement at this idea, and the tour of the ship continued.

-:-:-:-


	14. Distraction

**14\. Distraction**

The day before the highly anticipated birthday party and dance, Brom and eight of his friends gathered in the Cave of the Eldunarí for another of his magic lessons with Blödhgarm.

At a previous time, Brom had confessed to Zadí his growing fancy of Brin, so Zadí had approached Blödhgarm with the idea of using Brin to test Brom's ability to focus. Blödhgarm had agreed to the idea with mild amusement, so Zadí had arranged all of the details after running her plan by Brin.

Brin, who was nearly fifteen at this time, was as fun-loving and silly as her mother Breetuk had been in her youth, so she readily agreed to the plan. There was already some expectation that should Brom ever have to utilize his amazing abilities of focus, mental defense, and nonverbal magical, Brin would be his bodyguard since she was the best fighter out of the ten children who regularly saw Angela in dreams.

Zadí wondered if that might be why Brom had begun to like her. Or it could have simply been due to the fact that Brin was always lighthearted and succeeded in getting Brom to laugh more than anyone else with her cheerful teasing. Brom was otherwise a very serious, thoughtful young man, and his uncanny ability to concentrate so intently was sometimes unnerving to his peers. If one spoke with Brom, they always knew he would listen with undivided attention, his eyes glued to their own with unwavering focus.

Before the magic lesson began, Brom looked around the group and casually asked, "Where's Brin? She usually comes to these."

Zadí answered, "She told me she might not make it today. Her mother is helping her get her dress ready for the dance."

A look of mild disappointment then concern briefly crossed Brom's face in quick succession, which no one besides Zadí noticed. Zadí knew Brom wanted Brin as his first dance partner the next night, but he hadn't yet plucked up the courage to ask her and seemed to realize his time was growing short.

Zadí smiled knowingly at Brom. He rolled his eyes, shaking his head slightly. _Don't say anything, Zadí_ , he begged.

 _I won't, big brother,_ she promised. Though Zadí had not inherited her mother's ability to use magic like her older brother, she nonetheless had—through determination and careful practice—learned to use her mind to communicate.

Brom's gratitude shone in his eyes. Not long after, Blödhgarm called for the lesson to begin and it did.

Several minutes in, after Brom had already made himself invisible and was clearly engaging Blödhgarm in a serious mental effort, Brin jogged into the cave and breathlessly said, "Hi everyone! Where's Brom?"

Then she looked around—for as soon as Brin said his name, Brom flickered into sight for a brief second—and cried, "Oh! I'm so sorry! I didn't realize I was late and they had already started. But I really need to talk to Brom. Where is he?" She had seen him for the second his invisibility spell faltered, but she didn't let on.

Zadí, who was having a difficult time keeping a straight face, said, "He's already practicing with Blödhgarm and has made himself invisible."

"Then point him out!" Brin said in exasperation. "So I don't sit on him."

Zadí giggled and pointed at Brom's location. Brin approached him, though she could no longer see him, and sat down right next to him. "Brom!" she urgently said. "Brom, listen to me! This is really important. My mother and I just finished my dress, and she asked me if I already had a partner for the first dance. I told her I didn't, and she suggested I ask you."

At this point, Brom's hold on his invisibility spell completely failed, though he still managed to focus on whatever struggle he was engaging Blödhgarm in.

Brin started grinning and continued, "Apparently your mother told her that you don't have a partner either, so I thought it would be perfect! Good thing you hit another growth spurt earlier this year. Now you're taller again. But just by a little." She laughed, and sweat began beading on Brom's forehead as he strained to maintain his focus.

Brin laughed again, and Brom started trembling. "So will you be my partner for the first dance tomorrow? Brom! Come on! This is _important!_ " She laughed yet again, at her assertion—that her distraction was more important than Brom's lesson—and at Brom's obvious difficulty. Zadí joined her.

The others all seemed to realize that something about this was contrived, and they were looking around at each other with confused smiles on their faces.

Brin took Brom's hand and leaned over so her face was right next to his. He finally lost his focus and opened his eyes. Brin leaned back. "There you are! Well, did you hear a single word I just said?"

"Yes, Brin," Brom reassured in amusement. "Did you plan that?"

"No," Brin said, pausing for effect, "but Zadí did and I thought it sounded fun. I'm ashamed, Brom! That you could lose your focus over such a trivial thing." She giggled and released Brom's hand.

Brom smiled. "Not trivial to me," he pointed out.

"No, apparently not," Brin agreed. "But I wasn't just being obnoxious to test your abilities, Brom. I really would love to be your first partner tomorrow night if you don't mind."

"I _don't_ mind, Brin. But isn't it my job to ask?"

"Yes!" Brin exclaimed. "But you didn't seem to be in any hurry. And there are just _so many_ males lined up to ask me." She smiled brightly after her teasing exaggeration. "This is your last chance."

"Better not miss it," Brom said, smiling again. "Brin, will you be my first partner tomorrow night?"

"Yes!" Brin firmly declared. "I would love to! Now you can get back to your lesson with a brand new distraction floating around in your mind."

Brom laughed and glanced over at Zadí, who was watching in delight as everything unfolded. "That was a good idea, sweetie," he approved, using his pet endearment to annoy her as retribution. "Blödhgarm has never been able to come up with a distraction that effective. We should try it again sometime." He looked back at Brin. "But I wouldn't want you to feel bad if I did better at resisting your charm and managed to completely ignore you."

Brin laughed airily. "We'll see, Brom. I'm sure my female charm will only increase as I get older and more creative."

Brom chuckled. "No doubt. But it's actually a really good idea. Because if you do end up being my bodyguard, I'd have to learn to maintain my focus with you sitting, standing, or fighting right next to me. No small task."

"Not for you," Brin lightly agreed, scooting away from Brom to sit next to the others. "Go ahead, carry on."

Brom shook his head and continued his lesson with Blödhgarm.

-:-:-:-


	15. Sweet Sixteen

**15\. Sweet Sixteen**

The day of the big celebration dawned bright and clear. Five of the Riders' children shared this birthday: Var, Will, Lena, Willow Jr., and Monrow. The twin girls were turning ten. And the party was also serving as a celebration for Ajh's fourteenth birthday, which was the following day, as well as Hanna's thirteenth birthday, which was the day after that.

As his birthday gift to his friends and also himself, Ajh insisted on making everyone a delicious breakfast. After that, all of the Dragon Riders, children, and elves made their way to the training fields for a fighting demonstration, which everyone who could took part in. The adults began the spectacle for their children's enjoyment, then the young Dragon Riders had their turn.

Though not yet as expert of fighters as their parents, the youth had impressive abilities. Brom took after his father and was an amazing swordsman. Var and Will also took after their father and were the best wrestlers of any of their peers, even over Brin. As long as they could keep her hands pinned and avoid her feet, knees, or head, either one of them could force her to the ground and hold her there. The young people always enjoyed watching Will and Var fight each other, and the twins provided one of their fiercest shows that morning with the hope of impressing two particular females in the audience.

Lena had actually also learned to be a good fighter, at her parents' insistence. She knew several forms of self-defensive close combat—the same kinds Brin had learned—and with a few careful moves could temporarily immobilize her opponent and get away.

After learning this from Lena's father, for Lena was too modest to openly brag about such a thing, Will insisted on fighting her. Lena begrudgingly agreed after Will promised not to fight in his Rider's fighting mind. Much to Will's consternation, she evaded his determined attacks with very little effort. After blocking a blow aimed in her direction, Lena twisted his arm by clasping her hands around his elbow and turning it away from her. He landed on his back to avoid dislocating his shoulder. Lena laughed at Will's defeat and humbled expression, and Will's admiration for her only grew.

Nefin's expertise was in archery, and he could shoot as well as, if not better than, either of his parents. Keeta tended to take after her father Knilf and could throw an axe better than anyone. And Brin of course excelled in every area, though she wasn't better than Nefin with a bow or Keeta with an axe.

After several hours thus engaged, the crowd returned to the Great Hall for lunch, followed by a gift exchange. The twin boys had made their twin sisters small dragon figurines that matched Blackfire and Glimmer so the girls would feel like they had their own dragons, just like their parents and beloved older brothers.

The twins' gift from their parents, which was actually a gift from all of the adult Dragon Riders and elves on the Isle, were the sails for their ship. It was the last part of the ship they needed before it would be ready to sail. The sails were made from the sturdiest canvas, reinforced with magic by the elves. Will and Var were thrilled with the present and determined to put the finishing touches in place the next day before taking their ship out for its first sail.

The twin boys had insisted that none of their peers on the Isle worry about making them gifts, but Lena had something for Will. At the front of a handsome, leather-bound volume, she had compiled a written journal of many of their favorite shared childhood memories, leaving the entire back empty for Will to continue the record himself.

Will also had something for Lena, which didn't surprise anyone. Though only sixteen, these two seemed as sure as any of their parents ever had been of whom they wanted to spend the rest of their lives with.

With his mother's suggestion of jewelry in mind, Will had fashioned a lovely, delicate hair pin the exact color of Lena's blue eyes, which he knew would provide a stunning contrast nestled in her thick, black hair. Lena exclaimed in delight as she unwrapped and revealed the present. After throwing her arms around Will to demonstrate her approval, she enthusiastically informed him that it was a perfect match for her gown that evening and that she couldn't wait to wear it.

That seemed a natural segue into preparations for the ball. The women and girls all disappeared to the living quarters to begin readying themselves for the dance, while the men and boys stayed behind in the Great Hall to move tables and chairs out of the way and clear a large area for dancing. The elves brought all of the many dishes they had made to the buffet tables and also ensured that their instruments were ready to provide music for the evening.

At that point, the men and boys left to clean themselves up and dress for the celebration, then everyone returned together to the Great Hall for the commencement of the dance.

As Senior Rider, Eragon led the procession with Arya on his arm. The women seemed to have settled on a theme for their gowns, which was to have their colors match either their own dragons or the dragons of their husbands, if they weren't personally Dragon Riders. So Arya was attired in a stunning emerald gown. Murtagh and Nasuada followed them, and Nasuada looked queenly indeed in her vibrant ruby red dress. Varhog and Willow—who was clothed in the gorgeous hue of Sunset's pink-orange scales—marched close behind. Hanin guided a silver-clad Maehrí by the arm, closely trailed by Grintuk and Breetuk, whose mesmerizing dress was the same bronze-streaked purple as her dragon Midnight.

The Riders and their spouses lined up in order of seniority—including the dozen or so who had joined their ranks after Bodin's wife Vinya and before Brom—all the way down to their children. Brom guided Brin to their places, Var held Zadí's hand, and Will stood proudly beside Lena, whose pale blue dress truly did match her eyes and the new clip in her hair. Nefin and Keeta came next, with Ajh and Hanna bringing up the rear. The other children old enough to participate filled in the gaps, while the youngest ones excitedly milled about the room, keeping the dragons company and sneaking snacks from the food table.

The elves struck the first chords of the evening and the dance ensued, to the delight of all present. The Riders had rarely formally planned such an event, and even the adult women had anticipated the party for months in advance. The many dresses and dragons created a rainbow of shimmering, swirling colors that contributed as much to the environment as the music and dancing. The close friends and family rotated partners as the evening progressed, and everyone smiled and laughed until their cheeks were sore.

-:-:-

As the merriment continued, Will found himself once again with Lena, and their position in the lineup put them near the door to the courtyard. Rather than dance Lena down the center when their turn came, Will quickly pulled her out into the quiet night air.

"I've never had so much fun!" Lena exclaimed with a breathless laugh. "None of the dances in Ilirea were ever that enjoyable!" They began walking across the enormous courtyard away from the Great Hall.

"I agree," Will said. "Though I've never been to any of them. What do you suppose the difference was?"

"Hmmm," Lena teasingly mused. "I can't quite be sure, but it _might_ have something to do with my partner."

"Oh really?" Will said with an air of affected surprise. "I didn't step on your feet too many times?"

"Once more would have done it, but the first half dozen weren't a problem," Lena assured him with a giggle. He grabbed her and tickled her.

"I'm teasing, Will!" she cried.

"Will you fly with me somewhere?" Will suddenly asked.

"Yes!" Lena cried. "Where?"

"I don't know yet," Will admitted. "Somewhere special, I hope. We'll see if Glimmer can come up with a good surprise."

The dragon arrived a few moments later, and Will helped Lena up to her shoulders.

"I'd better sit sidesaddle," Lena murmured. "Unless you want to see a whole lot of my legs."

"Don't tempt me," Will mischievously warned.

Lena giggled and sat in front of Will with her legs together off the same side. She leaned into his chest, and he tightly wrapped his arms around her to help her feel secure.

Glimmer only flew for about ten minutes before landing on the cliffs overlooking the eastern shore of the island. The full moon hung low and reflected in the sea like silver.

Once Will had helped Lena down, she looked around. A small bench sat not far from the edge of the cliffs with a wrapped package on the seat.

"And Glimmer arranged all of this?" Lena asked in knowing delight.

"After a manner of speaking," Will offhandedly replied. "I only helped a little."

Lena giggled again, slipping her arms around him. "Thank you for bringing me here, Will. It's so beautiful."

"Yes," he agreed. "There's one more present I want to give you for our birthday, Lena. But I wanted to do it alone."

"Very well," she excitedly said.

"Come sit with me," he invited, taking her by the hand to guide her to the bench, where they sat. He picked up the gift and handed it to her. "I won't explain until you've opened it."

Lena quickly unwrapped the present and found herself holding a small box. She opened the box to reveal two rings. The smaller one was shimmering golden-brown, and Lena immediately recognized the color of Will's eyes. The larger one was light blue, the color of her own eyes. She looked up at Will in astonishment.

"I'm not asking you to marry me, Lena," he explained. "But I'm telling you that I want to marry you someday. I love you, Lena. And I hoped you might be willing to keep this as a promise ring of sorts. Will you?"

"Yes," she whispered as tears filled her eyes. "The golden one is mine, right? To remind me of your eyes."

"That's right," Will said. He took the indicated ring and slipped it on her finger. But then he reached into his pocket and withdrew two fine chains. "If you think you'd feel awkward having to explain, I also made these chains so you can wear it around your neck until I actually do propose."

"And when will that be?"

"When the time is right and we're a bit older. If I don't ask your father first, my father will be highly displeased." He grinned. "But I didn't want to wait to give it to you. I wanted your sweet sixteen to be special somehow." He leaned over and kissed her forehead.

"Thank you, Will," she breathed as she examined the ring. "I love it. And I'll proudly wear it—on this chain—until we're engaged." She looked up at him. "I love you, Will."

Will smiled and lifted his hand to stroke her cheek. "Thank you, honey." Then he took a deep breath. "I enchanted these rings, Lena. And I wanted to tell you in case it might make you uncomfortable."

"What do they do?" Lena wondered.

"They always draw toward one another with a mild attraction, even if they're just on the chain. We don't have to be wearing them on our fingers for that spell to work. The other part of the enchantment allows us to feel if the other is all right, meaning in trouble or sick or upset. Things like that. It will feel this regular temperature when everything is as it should be. But if either of us is emotionally distraught, the other ring will feel hot. If one of us was ever in physical pain or danger, the other ring would get cold."

"What if the ring got lost?" Lena asked. "Would we still know whether the other was all right?"

"That part—sensing the emotional and physical state—will only work if our ring is near us, including on the chain," Will said. "But the ring would still exert a mild pull toward its match whether its wearer was with it or not."

"How lovely," Lena said. "I have no problem with that whatsoever, Will. It's actually comforting to know that I will always be able to feel that you're well when we have to be apart." She leaned forward and hugged him.

Will pulled her close. Lena shifted around until she was comfortably situated with her head resting against his shoulder and his arms around her.

For a time they sat silently and observed the moon as it played across the surface of the ocean. Will finally said, "Thank you for the journal, Lena. It was so personal and special. I just finished my current journal, and I can't wait to start writing in the new one. Tonight will be the first experience I record."

"It will be fun to look back on all of the times we shared growing up, especially once we're married and start a family. Our children will one day enjoy hearing about our many adventures."

"I'm so glad you feel the same as I do, Lena," Will said. "I'm so excited for that time. You will be my _real_ wife within a few years, just as you were once my imaginary wife in the pretend games we played with my sisters."

"My father told me that he has always hoped one of Varhog's sons might fancy me," Lena confessed. "Because he knew what amazing husbands you will both be with your father's example to learn from. I'll be the luckiest girl in the land."

Will laughed softly and rested his cheek against the top of her head. "But not as lucky as I will. That's always how it is. Just like with mother and father. They never stop feeling like they're the most fortunate in their relationship, and I think it's the secret to their happiness and love. I'll always treasure you, Lena."

"Thank you," she whispered.

"Shall we return?" he suggested. "Before anyone starts to worry?"

She nodded, and they stood together. Will gently removed the ring from her finger and slipped it on one of the chains. Then he fastened it around her neck. As Lena slid her chain and ring down the front of her dress, Will repeated the process with his own ring and dropped it under his shirt. He smiled, took Lena's hand, and they returned to Glimmer, who regarded them approvingly as they climbed to her shoulders.

The dragon flew them back to the courtyard, and they enjoyed the final few hours of their sixteenth birthday party with the reassurance of their happy secret resting near their hearts.

-:-:-:-


	16. Nefin

**Elf Choosing Ceremony**

 **16\. Nefin**

A week after the birthday celebration, Nefin and his family—along with many of the other Dragon Riders' families—were winging their way toward Ellesméra. Since the time Nefin's mother Maehrí had become a Dragon Rider, three additional elven Dragon Riders had been chosen, and they were all returning to Du Weldenvarden to be present for the Choosing Ceremony that summer.

At the time of the last Elf Choosing Ceremony, Nefin had been only ten, so he hadn't been old enough to participate in the Ceremony as a candidate. This year he was fifteen and therefore within the age range—thirteen to one hundred—of eligible elven youth. Though Nefin hadn't mentioned anything to his family or closest friends, he had high hopes the dragon might hatch for him this year.

The year Brom, Var, and Will all became Dragon Riders was supposed to be a year for a dwarf Rider, but no other dragons hatched that year, even though the Dwarf Choosing Ceremony had still been held. So the next year the Dwarf Choosing Ceremony had been repeated. Keeta had become the newest Dragon Rider, just after turning thirteen.

The following year at the Human Ceremony, Ajh had been chosen at age thirteen. Nefin and Ajh were close friends, and Nefin had told his friend that he was slightly jealous he hadn't been chosen at thirteen like four of his friends had.

But Nefin wasn't the only one. Lena, Brin, Ginnee, and Zadí were all thirteen or older and had never been chosen. But things seemed to work well. Whenever the youth were all together, as they had been the week leading up to the recent birthday celebration, there were enough dragons that they could pair up with one of their Rider friends and still experience the thrill of flying.

Since the three oldest males clearly had romantic interests, Nefin often found himself coupled with Keeta. Sometimes his younger sister Hanna flew with Keeta, but she seemed to prefer flying with Ajh, which meant Nefin had to fly with the dwarf. Until this summer, Nefin hadn't ever thought anything of the arrangement, but now that Keeta was nearly fifteen, it seemed like she had begun to attribute more meaning to their happenstance flying pattern.

Nefin had found himself feeling a growing sense of concern that Keeta might be starting to fancy him. She was one of his closest friends, like many of the rest of the Riders' oldest children. Brom, Var, and Will had also all begun to view some of their lifelong friends as more than that, but Nefin couldn't see himself ever feeling more than friendship for the cheerful dwarf lass.

Keeta was fair in a dwarven way, with rosy cheeks, bright blue eyes, and golden blonde hair. And she was merry and witty, but Nefin thought her far too short. Yet the story of Ellei-an and Gelarik kept running through his mind like an unwelcome intruder.

 _I won't fall in love with a dwarf,_ he stubbornly thought.

Nefin was excited for this trip to Ellesméra for another reason. Blödhgarm had instructed him to seek out certain elves with an expertise in tracking, and Nefin planned to practice his skills in the forest. He was glad Angela's advice to him had been to master outdoor survival skills with an emphasis on tracking. As an elf, he already had very keen eyesight, hearing, and sense of smell, which natural abilities were very useful in tracking. Because it interested him, he had expanded his learning to include trapping, and his personal challenge was to find a way to snare an animal without harming it, so he could release it safely once his game was over. He never caught the animals to kill or eat.

He knew there would be a different variety of wildlife in Du Weldenvarden, which would make his efforts more interesting at first, though not more difficult. As his friends always teased, he could follow the trail of a dragon that had flown by the day before.

But his gift wasn't any more impressive than Brom's amazing magical abilities or Var and Will's expertise with ships, the ocean, and the sky. Or Brin's fighting skills and Keeta's mind-boggling aptitude for facts, figures, numbers, and planning of all sorts. Each of their gifts was so different and unique, but together the ten of them had some astonishing capabilities, and they all seemed to complement each other.

Whereas Brom could focus on one thing to the exclusion of all else, Nefin could observe almost everything about a scene all at once. He saw, smelled, and heard things the others didn't even think about, noticed the state of the ground and gathered evidence of what might have been going on anywhere from a minute before up to a week earlier. His friends often tested him by visiting a place and performing some activity there, removing all traces of their presence to the best of their ability, and then sending Nefin in to see if he could figure out what had been going on. And he was invariably able to.

Nefin could also use magic like many elves, but he had never focused his main efforts on honing his magical skills because tracking didn't require it. He could perform some basic healing spells, cast several protective wards, and use his mind to communicate and observe the energy of life around him. Of all his magical abilities, the last was the most useful in tracking since he could easily sense the energy of lifeforms, even if they were attempting to remain hidden.

His younger sister Hanna, on the other hand, had been instructed by Angela to master healing magic, and she was a powerful and gifted healer, gaining strength even over Blödhgarm thanks to the advantages of her elven youth.

Nefin wondered—as he knew his friends often did, since they so frequently discussed it together—what they were being prepared for.

-:-:-

Several weeks later, when the large traveling group reached their destination, the elves were as thrilled as usual that so many dragons carefully descended into their city grown from trees. Most of the Riders' families stayed in treehouses near Tialdarí Hall, the ancestral dwellings of Aunt Arya's family line, which was where the former queen and her Senior Rider husband stayed with their family. Of course, _they_ were treated as if they were _still_ royalty because of their status as Dragon Riders. And all of the elves were equally as joyous that so many children—especially elven children—accompanied the Dragon Riders.

As a result, Nefin, Hanna, and their younger siblings were treated with the same amount of deference as Brom, Zadí, Evan, and the other children in their family.

The Choosing Ceremony began the morning after their arrival in Ellesméra. Nefin and Hanna stood with the sparse crowd of other elven youth assembled. There were only about three dozen elves ages thirteen to one hundred.

When Zadí made her way quietly to Nefin's side, he glanced over at her with his eyebrows raised questioningly.

"The elves invited me to participate since I'm part elf," Zadí muttered in an undertone. "But I doubt it will make a difference."

Nefin gave her an encouraging smile, and they turned their attention back to the guardian Rider, who was briefly explaining how the event would proceed, since all present were familiar with the organization of Rider Choosing Ceremonies.

The time for introductions went very quickly indeed, lasting less than an hour, since there were so few gathered as candidates.

As a show of respect for Nefin, since both of his parents were Dragon Riders, the guardian Rider at the Ceremony asked if he would like to have the first turn with the lovely silver and purple speckled dragon egg, which had been Vera's first egg in her union with Silvan.

In proper elven fashion, Nefin graciously agreed. He carefully took the egg, which he had often handled in the Cave of the Eldunarí. He knew the dragon inside was male, so he said, "Hello, little fellow. I introduced myself less than an hour ago and have touched your egg many times before. Now it's my turn to spend a bit more time with you, though I don't know what more to tell you. Shall we simply relax together?" He looked up and smiled as Hanna and Zadí giggled. Many of the other candidates for the Ceremony had also remained nearby.

Nefin sat in front of a tree and leaned back against the trunk with the egg in his lap. He patted the ground on either side of him to invite Hanna and Zadí to join him, which they did. They chatted of this and that while Nefin gently ran his hands along the egg. Hanna told them that on her most recent birthday, Angela had counseled her to add to her magical skills by learning to concurrently cast and maintain several wards on many people at a time. Wards that would protect not only from physical harm but also from magical attack. Angela had cheerfully told her that such a skill would save her a lot of time and trouble when it came to healing, since the wards would prevent many injuries from even occurring.

Zadí looked slightly troubled by this news. "What is it, Zadí?" Nefin asked.

"You all are learning amazing skills," Zadí quietly said. "I feel really inadequate. I don't think I'll ever be able to contribute much to this group. A charming smile hardly seems significant in comparison."

"Your gift is more than just a charming smile, Zadí," Nefin insisted. "You have a way of understanding people, of befriending them and getting them to _want_ to do things in a way that seems completely natural. Your powers of persuasion are effortless and never manipulative. I'm sure you'll be able to help in a way no one else could. Don't worry. It's not always—"

"About being tallest, strongest, or fastest," Zadí impatiently finished, echoing words their parents had spoken on many occasions. "I know," she said in a gentler tone. "I just feel like I'm completely useless. Like I would be more of a liability than anything. My swordsmanship is improving, but compared to you or Brom, I'm pathetic. I'd rather dance than fight."

"I'm not a great fighter either," Hanna pointed out. "I'm getting better, but I've focused much more on healing magic and now have another magical skill to master."

"But I can't even use the simplest of magic," Zadí returned. "Unless you count communicating with my mind, and that's second nature to an elf or a Dragon Rider." She sighed. "I'm sorry to complain. I hope if I have an important part to play, I'll figure it out before it's too late."

-:-:-

They sat in thoughtful silence for a moment. Zadí stared at her hands in her lap and was surprised when a wise mind touched her own. _Your greatest gift will be love, Islanzadí. And since you have no magical or fighting abilities to distract you, you will be aware of the time to offer your gift when it arrives. If you have the courage to accept your role, you will save all whom you hold most dear._

Zadí quickly looked up, glancing between Nefin and Hanna. "Did you hear that?"

Nefin and Hanna looked confused, and Zadí guessed they hadn't. But neither had a chance to respond before the egg in Nefin's lap jumped and a piercing squeak rent the air. Nefin gripped the egg more tightly as he stared down at it, a wide smile slowly spreading across his handsome face. "It's hatching," he breathed.

Several minutes later the tiny new dragon sat in a pile of shell fragments. He blinked his eyes at the brightness of day and looked around at the three youth surrounding him, as well as the circle of wonder-filled faces above them.

As Nefin gingerly used his right hand—whereon the new silvery mark glistened—to stroke his dragon, he greeted, "Hello, my small friend. I'm delighted to finally meet you." The dragon again nuzzled his snout against Nefin's hand.

 _Who are these two?_ the dragon asked for all three to hear.

Zadí raised her eyebrows as she recognized the mental voice of the being who had addressed her right before the dragon egg hatched.

 _My sister Hanna,_ Nefin answered, including the two girls in his message. Hanna raised her hand to wave. _And our close friend Zadí._ Zadí dipped her head in acknowledgement.

The dragon looked at them both and said, _It is a pleasure to meet you all._

Zadí knew the dragon spoke only to her when he added, _Remember what I told you, Islanzadí._


	17. Auntie Woo-non

**17\. Auntie Woo-non**

News quickly spread that Nefin was the newest Dragon Rider, and all of his friends enthusiastically congratulated him as they congregated to meet the small dragon.

Since the Ceremony had lasted less than a full day, the youth were anxious to visit Rhunön the elf smith and see about having Riders' weapons forged.

The group of ten friends made their way through Ellesméra toward the tunnel of dogwood trees that led into the old elf's atrium and forge. Nefin carried his new dragon while the others trailed along behind. None of them were too large to walk under the arching tree branches, and soon the friends were all chattering excitedly outside Rhunön's half-walled smithy.

But Rhunön was nowhere to be seen. The young people dissolved into a fit of laughter as Will loudly called, "Auntie Woo-non? Whewe awr yoo?"

"Maybe she's playing hide and seek," Var suggested. "Shall we all hide and see if she can find us when she returns?"

"You should do no such thing, young Dragon Rider," Rhunön gruffly scolded as she emerged from her tree house. "How is an old lady supposed to take a nap with all of this carrying on happening outside her front door?"

"Auntie Woo-non!" Will teasingly cried. "We're delighted to see you too!" He bounded over and swept her up in an exuberant embrace, completely ignoring her muttering, halfhearted attempts to shove him away.

"As strong as your father," she griped with a growing twinkle in her eye.

"Not yet!" Var exclaimed as he repeated Will's enthusiastic greeting.

The others were less forward in their welcome, but soon enough they had each said their hellos.

Rhunön turned back to the twins. "Don't they teach you any manners on the Isle of the Eldunarí? My understanding is that there are nearly three dozen elves there now."

"Manners?" Will repeated, scratching his head in affected stupidity. "What are those?"

Rhunön attempted to keep the smile from her face. But she failed when Var added, "Our favorite elven teacher when it comes to the subject of elven manners and courtesy has always been you, Auntie Woo-non. Since you were around before such stuffiness began."

"You two," Rhunön indulgently laughed. "I don't know how you get away with such cheekiness, but I must admit it's refreshing. I was hoping to see some Dragon Riders soon. I heard you arrived yesterday."

"Yes," Will confirmed. "And the Choosing Ceremony already commenced and concluded. Nefin is our newest brother."

"Nefin?" Rhunön echoed, looking over at him. "As handsome as his father, though he has his mother's lovely eyes. Somewhat like you, Brom. Ah, only yesterday you were tiny babies. How time flies when one is as old as I."

"We came to you to see about having Riders' weapons crafted, Rhunön-elda," Brom respectfully said.

"So many of you children are becoming Dragon Riders," Rhunön mused. "And these dragons have patterns the likes of which I have never before seen. Mesmerizing blades they will be. But how old are you now?"

"Sixteen, honored one," Brom replied.

"You two as well?" Rhunön asked the twins.

"Yes, ma'am," Will said with an exaggerated salute.

Rhunön chuckled. "Quite the jester, aren't you, young man? I don't remember your father ever being so silly. You must get it from your mother."

"It's one of the features he loves most about her," Will agreed. "But we might get there in another seventeen years. Wasn't he thirty-three when you first met him?"

"I do not recall," Rhunön said. "But it is no matter. I quite like it, though I should never admit such a thing. They are here too, are they not?"

"Yes, Auntie Woo-non," Var verified. They had always persisted in referring to Rhunön in this manner and knew Rhunön secretly loved it, though she outwardly groused about it to keep up appearances. "With nearly half a dozen more little ones to meet you."

"Oh, the little ones!" Rhunön eagerly exclaimed. "And so do the Shadeslayers, right?" Brom nodded his confirmation. "All of you have dozens of younger siblings between the lot of you," Rhunön continued. "Getting married and having families was the best thing the Dragon Riders could have done. Such fine young people they have raised. You will surely make a difference for the better in the land."

"Thank you, honored one," Brom said.

Rhunön contemplatively clasped her hands and gazed off into the trees a moment before resuming the conversation. "And how about you, young lady?" she asked Keeta. "How old are you?"

"I'm fifteen now," Keeta answered. "Same as Nefin, though he'll be sixteen at the end of the year." She glanced at him then away with an expression of forced indifference on her face.

"Have you all reached your full adult heights, do you suppose?" Rhunön asked. "I seem to recall that Brom's father grew several inches after we forged Brisingr."

"He had his last growth spurt when he was nineteen," Brom said.

"We should wait until you are fully grown to forge weapons," Rhunön said. "Until then do you have Rider's blades to practice with on the Isle?"

"Of course," Brom responded. "We can go inform our parents that you'd like to see the babies."

"I most certainly would," Rhunön said. "But don't go just yet. Last time you were all here, some of you were getting to be impressive fighters." She pointedly looked at Brin, who smiled in return. "Won't you provide me with some entertainment?"

"Will we ever!" Will declared. "You have to see how Lena can take me down! She's amazing!"

"Will," Lena modestly objected.

Rhunön eyed them shrewdly. "Taking after your parents in another way, I see," she muttered. "When you come in a few years, I will prepare myself for the endless discussions of love I once had the privilege of overhearing whenever they graced me with their company."

Will chuckled. "Yes, I'm sure we will put even them to shame with all of the years of firsthand learning we have received. If the dozens of babies they have all produced aren't evidence enough of their deep affection, I don't know what is."

Rhunön rasped her grating laugh. "Well, carry on then. Give me a good show." She sat in the yew branch hammock that had remained outside of her forge for over sixteen years and was now entwined with vines and small colorful blooms. The young Dragon Riders and their friends—save Hanna, Zadí, and occasionally Lena, who kept Rhunön company in her comfortable seat—spent the rest of the day heartily dueling one another, with Rhunön as their appreciative audience. And her knowledgeable comments and suggestions never fell on deaf ears, for the young people knew what a valuable gift it was to receive instruction from the most gifted weapons maker of all time.

-:-:-:-


	18. Brin

**Urgal Choosing Ceremony**

 **18\. Brin**

The Urgal Choosing Ceremony had been running for nearly five weeks now, and Brin was about to go crazy. In Ellesméra, there were just under forty elven youth present for the Ceremony, but there were _hundreds_ of Urgralgra youth ages thirteen to twenty-three. And _all_ of the rams seemed to have taken a never-ending interest in Brin and her famous fighting abilities. Famous there, at least. And how they had even become widely known was beyond Brin, but she wouldn't put it past one of her _wonderful_ cousins Will or Var to have leaked _that_ particular piece of information.

 _That's not fair, Brin,_ she thought to herself. _A lot of these rams have known you all of your life. Surely_ they _have_ _been the ones to spread word of your fighting skills._ She glanced up and felt a helpless sensation of being trapped in a cage when she noticed _another_ group of Urgal rams heading her way. And this was a _different_ crowd from the one she had already been evading. They were cornering her!

Brin turned into the trees and began running, feeling a building sense of panic as she heard the rams laugh and take up the chase as if it was a game. Where could she hide? Could she make it to her grandmother Myrintuk's before being caught? But surely she wouldn't be safe there either. Should she simply climb a tree and hope they wouldn't spot her? Maybe she could run to Lake Fläm and jump in.

Keeta! Brin needed to find Keeta and make her and Lightning fly her far away until the day for her turn with the egg arrived.

 _Keeta!_ Brin feverishly thought. _Where are you?_

Though Brin couldn't actually find Keeta's mind and communicate with her, Brin hoped her desperate mental plea would be obvious if her best friend was paying even the smallest degree of attention to her surroundings, as Dragon Riders were taught to do.

But while Brin couldn't telepathically communicate with her mind, she _had_ begun to learn the detached awareness a Dragon Rider was able to achieve while fighting so as to further hone her already incredible fighting abilities. She had felt it would be important—and Angela's insistent counsel had confirmed her own impressions—to understand how to use this emotionless state of heightened observation before ever becoming a Dragon Rider, if she did at all. And Brin was now secretly hoping she wouldn't be chosen as the newest Dragon Rider, like Nefin had last year, because it would only intensify the painful attention she was already so unwillingly receiving.

 _Brin?_ Keeta's somewhat amused, somewhat understanding, somewhat concerned reply came back. _I'm in the village square. Why? The other Riders heard your mental scream. Brom's quite worried._

Brin brushed off her last remark. _Meet me by the cliffs overlooking the lake with Lightning!_ Brin thought with all of the intensity of which she was capable. _I need to get away! Now! Before about twenty rams catch up to me and demand_ another _fighting demonstration._

Brin felt Keeta laugh through the one-way mental link, since Brin could only think her thoughts and hope they carried to Keeta while she happened to be listening. _Brom is willing to come. Would you prefer I ask him and Talon to rescue you?_ Keeta teasingly offered, though Brin was relieved to sense that her friend was already moving.

 _No!_ Brin exclaimed, glad at least that Keeta's thoughts were hidden from Brom, though hers obviously weren't. _Hurry!_ She would be at the lake within five minutes, but Keeta and Lightning could arrive far faster, and Brin hoped Lightning would just swoop down and snatch her off the edge of the cliffs while the rams all tumbled to the water below. _That_ would be fun to witness.

To Brin's everlasting gratitude, Keeta and Lightning did meet her just as she was coming out of the trees. _Catch me!_ she thought, throwing herself off the cliffs as far away from the rocks as she could to improve Lightning's chances of reaching her. She immediately made her body straight as a board and put her arms directly out to her sides at shoulder height, bracing herself for the feel of dragon talons closing around her arms.

They did just seconds before she would have hit the water and most likely had both of her arms torn from her body, or at the very least, both shoulders dislocated. Some fighter she would have been if that had happened.

 _Where would that leave Brom?_ a distant part of her mind wondered. But she stubbornly pushed the thought away and twisted her head around to attempt to see back in the direction of the many shouts that suddenly filled the air. _Can I really hear them?_ Brin thought. _Or am I just imagining it because I_ want _to hear them? Lightning's_ _wings are really loud._

But whether she could hear the rams yelling or not, she could most definitely see several plummeting over the edge of the cliffs toward the water. Brin laughed exuberantly. She was free!

-:-:-

Lightning flew over the lake then carefully landed so Brin could climb up behind Keeta on his back. "Thank you, Keeta," she fervently said, hugging her small friend from behind. "Do these saddlebags have enough food and supplies to survive in the wild until it's my turn with the dragon egg?"

Keeta laughed. "Perhaps. Wow, Brin. You really don't like the attention from the male population, do you? Most girls—myself included—will never understand you. But it has always been that way, hasn't it?"

"Let's get farther away before we have _that_ conversation again, Keeta," Brin said, somewhat sourly.

"As you wish, oh great fightress," her friend teased.

Lightning flew for about twenty minutes and landed somewhere deep in the Spine, far from Lake Fläm and the Bolvek village where the Ceremony was being held.

The two best friends, a female dwarf and Urgal, dismounted from the bronze-gold dragon with deep purple—almost black—lightning streaks forming jagged patterns across his scales. "Lightning," Brin said, "you're still the most amazing-looking dragon I have ever seen. I love that you are the son of my parents' dragons. And thank you for rescuing me."

 _You are welcome, Brin,_ the stunning dragon replied with unmistakable amusement. _I am excited to meet my sister when she chooses to hatch at this Ceremony._

"Yes!" Brin agreed. " _If_ she chooses to hatch. Even after splitting the customary full day with the dragon egg into a fourth of a day, this Ceremony still feels endless. And we're barely through the youth in their twenties!" From the time Brin's mother Breetuk had been chosen as a Dragon Rider, the Urgralgra had ordered the ceremony from oldest to youngest. After the initial brief introductions, each youth had only about three hours with the dragon egg and the guardian Rider had to fit four youth in every day. Since this got exhausting, the Urgralgra Riders, including Brin's parents and Uncle Varhog, took turns with the other three Urgal Riders who had joined their ranks in the sixteen years since Breetuk had been chosen. They had shifts, and each Rider only had to be present for one three-hour window every day.

Brin had actually celebrated her sixteenth birthday about a week before the Ceremony began, one day after Eragon and Arya's eighteenth wedding anniversary, which had also been cause for a huge celebration in the Urgal village. Since Keeta's birthday was only five days before Brin's, the Urgralgra had thrown a huge party for the two girls and the two beloved adult Dragon Riders.

Brin loved the time she and her family—and the other Dragon Riders—spent in the Urgralgra villages, whether near Lake Fläm or in Anghelm with her father's family. Everything seemed a cause worthy of celebrating, and the Urgralgra were always holding feasts or throwing parties.

"Are you hungry?" Keeta asked Brin, forcing her out of her thoughts.

"No," Brin said. "But I might be soon. I've spent all morning dodging groups of eager rams hoping to have the opportunity to test themselves against me. Why, Keeta? Why! Why did my skill have to be fighting when I'm an Urgralgra female and fighting prowess is the most admired trait of my race?"

"To keep Brom hopping?" Keeta playfully suggested.

Brin rolled her eyes but also smiled faintly. Brom had been nearly beside himself seeing how the rams had all immediately desired Brin because of her abilities. Not to mention that she was extremely beautiful for an Urgal, thanks to the good looks of her mother and father. Brin's face became slightly more serious. "Why does he have to fancy me so much too, Keeta?"

"Why not, Brin?" Keeta returned. "You're tall, beautiful, intelligent, extremely talented yet infuriatingly modest about it, and destined to save his life. At least that's what all of the evidence suggests. Why wouldn't he?"

"But he's just so _good!"_ Brin griped. "Which sounds pathetically stupid when I say it like that. What I mean is, he seems _perfect_ , and I feel so insignificant by comparison. Plus I'm an Urgal. Surely such a handsome male who's not _also_ an Urgal wouldn't be able to overlook that forever."

"There's nothing to overlook, Brin," Keeta gently reminded her. "Nothing wrong with being an Urgal, and you know Brom certainly feels that way. How would you ever even get such a notion into your head, as intimately aware of Aunt Willow and Uncle Varhog's relationship as you are? _You_ think _Brom_ handsome, though he's not an Urgal. Why can't he think you're beautiful? You know he does."

Brin nodded reluctantly. She was definitely aware that Brom thought she was beautiful and also that she was somehow the unsuspecting female who had caught his unwavering eye and won his exasperatingly loyal fancy. She knew he was a male like Var and Will, like their father Varhog, and like _his_ father Eragon. Brom would most likely love her for the rest of eternity! And why couldn't she feel the same? Why did she know deep down inside that she most likely _did_ feel the same and still stubbornly refused to admit it? Maybe it was simply because there was an unspoken expectation that the two of them would end up together and her defiant streak wanted to exert some autonomy in the matter of who she fell in love with.

Brin sensed that Keeta was waiting for her to say something, and she replayed Keeta's last words so she could respond to them. "Yes, I suppose that's true. And it would be a lie if I tried to deny that I think he's impossibly handsome. But in the case of Willow and Varhog, the female is the human. Doesn't it seem different somehow? Or maybe the idea of a female Urgal with a male of another species is hard for me to accept because it still has never happened. In fact, another interracial relationship and marriage like Willow and Varhog's hasn't _ever_ happened, though relations between the Urgralgra and the other races are better than ever before. I guess I just wonder how _I_ could have won Brom's fancy. He's so, _so_ amazing and I feel completely unworthy of him."

"But you're so amazing too," Keeta patiently pointed out. "If you want, I'll trade places with you. Maybe as a tall Urgal I would have a better chance with an elf than as a short dwarf. It's not such a bad thing to be so certain a boy likes—even loves—you, Brin. You might want to be careful not to push him away so much that he simply gives up."

Brin looked over at her friend and saw the sadness in her eyes. "I'm sorry, Keeta," she quietly said. "It's really rude of me to carry on like this in front of you. I know I should be more grateful."

Keeta shrugged. "We actually feel really similarly, Brin," she dismissed. "Nefin is so, _so_ amazing and I feel completely unworthy of him. But in my case, he seems to agree with that idea—that I'm not worthy of him—so I don't have to deal with the frustration of unwanted male affection. But I'm already to the point of realizing that I wouldn't be frustrated if by some miracle he returned my affection. I'd be happy."

"We're also aware of a relationship where an elf and dwarf fell in love," Brin encouragingly reminded her.

"Yes, over the course of several decades," Keeta replied with a sigh. "Which I suppose should give me more hope than it does, since we'll both live forever. But there again the genders were reversed. If Ellei-an eventually came to love Gelarik, maybe the seemingly impossible will also happen for me. But I'm too practical to place any bets."

Brin put her arm around Keeta's shoulders where they were sitting side by side against the soft surface of Lightning's belly, since he was sprawled out almost on his back. She gave Keeta a gentle squeeze. "If Nefin has any sense, he'll realize before it's too late what an honor it is that you think so highly of him."

"Yes," Keeta agreed, playfully again. "Next year at the Dwarf Ceremony, when I'm officiating and appearing all important—"

"And all of the strapping, young male dwarves are fawning all over you," Brin helpfully supplied.

"But of course," Keeta agreed with exaggerated bluster, followed by a self-deprecating giggle. " _Then_ Nefin will realize what a prize I am and come to his senses." Her jovial expression fell slightly.

"If only," she wistfully said. "He seems relieved to have his own dragon now, which is the perfect, logical excuse never to have to fly with me again."

"Oh Keeta," Brin mourned for her best friend's sadness, placing her other arm around her so she could give her a sincere hug. "Why does love have this power? To make people so sad and heartsick?"

"Because it's so powerful?" Keeta dully ventured.

"That's what they say," Brin agreed, also rather emotionlessly. "They say it's the most powerful force there is."

"It must be," Keeta continued in the same lifeless tone. "Nothing else has ever made me feel so wretched."

"Let's think of cheerful things," Brin suggested. "Like how so many of those rams fell off the cliffs before realizing the ground ended." Keeta giggled, and Brin went on, "It reminded me of my mother and father right after they got married. Want to hear the story again?"

"No," Keeta said, still laughing. "For it leads to much discussion of lovemaking. And that's what we're trying to avoid. But it _was_ really funny. I couldn't help but turn and watch them. I just hope none of them got hurt."

"Me too," Brin said.

"Do you think the dragon will hatch for you, Brin?" Keeta asked.

"I don't know," Brin honestly answered. "I've always secretly hoped—like Lena, Zadí, and Hanna, I guess—that one would so I wouldn't feel left out. But I know the Camp after would be so much more miserable if she did. Then I'd have that much more imaginary fame and prestige for these rams to gawk about. I don't know how much more I can handle. But it _would_ be really fun if she did hatch for me. Then your dragon and mine would be siblings and their Riders best friends."

Keeta nodded, and Lightning offered his mental agreement. Their talk continued on with these lighter subjects. And while Brin truly didn't stay away the next many weeks leading up to her turn with the dragon egg, Keeta helped her avoid any more uncomfortable run-ins with the male Urgralgra youth, which circumstance seemed to relieve Brom as much as it did Brin.


	19. Increasingly Frustrated

**19\. Increasingly Frustrated**

Brin's turn with the deep purple egg with golden sunburst patterns arrived about seven weeks later. She had asked for her mother Breetuk to be the Urgralgra Rider present with her. She rarely got to spend any time alone with her mother, so Brin thought it would be a nice change. Usually her mother was always surrounded by the many young sons she had, but _they_ were happily playing with their dozens of cousins in the Bolvek village and their tireless grandfather Garzhvog.

"You haven't been around much these past several weeks, Brin," her mother observed as Brin stroked the egg in her lap.

Brin smiled sheepishly. "No, I haven't. Trying to avoid the rams. They're always either wanting to see me fight or fight with me."

"And that bothers you?"

"Slightly," Brin confessed. "Actually, more than slightly. There are so many, and they're relentless!"

"We females all used to be the same about your father. Nothing sounded more romantic and appealing than capturing the eye of the Dragon Rider. But they were always so far away then. Not like now. A lot of these rams have grown up with you around for the better part of their lives, Brin. Are you surprised they act like they do?"

"I suppose not," Brin allowed. "Just unimpressed. None of them really _know_ me. They know I'm a good fighter and that seems to be all that matters to them."

"Well, have any of them caught your eye like I caught your father's?"

Brin smiled and shook her head. "Nope. I guess I'm pickier than he was."

Breetuk laughed. "Oh thank you, dear," she dryly said. "I'll tell him you said that."

"Please do," Brin invited with a laugh of her own. "Then maybe I'll get a _real_ fighting lesson out of him."

"What do you mean? Hasn't he been teaching you?"

"Sure," Brin said. "He just seems to go easy on me, like he's afraid of really testing me because I'm his daughter and he doesn't want to hurt me."

"He might actually be afraid, sweetie," Breetuk said, laughing again.

Brin giggled. "I'll tell him you said that," she benignly threatened, echoing her mother's words.

Breetuk laughed louder. "Please do," she said, playing along. "He might try to tickle me and that always leads to something more interesting."

Brin rolled her eyes in affected disgust. "You two," she then added in indulgent exasperation. "Like you're still on your honeymoon nearly seventeen years later. Is it that way for all Urgralgra?"

"I can't speak for all of them," Breetuk said. "But probably for many. It's hard not to be that way with an Urgralgra ram as a mate."

Brin shrugged noncommittally. "I'll take your word for it."

"You have never seemed interested in an Urgal ram, Brin," her mother shrewdly observed. "Has another male won your fancy?"

"No, mother," Brin said with an air of infinite patience. "But you are surely aware—like every other living, breathing being—that another male fancies _me_."

"Brom," Breetuk stated, for as Brin had suggested, it wasn't any secret and her mother didn't even have to ask.

Brin just stared at her, knowing her silence was more than adequate confirmation.

"And what do you have against that notion?" Breetuk sincerely questioned. "He's an amazing boy. As tall as any Urgal who isn't Kull, though not quite as strong. But still strong enough, if that sort of thing matters to you."

"It doesn't, mother," Brin muttered. "Tall, dark, and handsome. Seems like those were _your_ top qualifications."

Breetuk laughed. "But of course," she playfully agreed. Then she added more seriously, "But that's such a superficial part of any Dragon Rider. There's so much more to the package."

"I know," Brin wearily said. "I'm sorry, mother. I don't mean to be rude, but it feels like I've had this conversation so frequently lately. Brom's too perfect. I'm not good enough for him. He could do better."

" _He_ doesn't seem to think so," her mother pointed out.

But the conversation effectively ended when the egg in Brin's lap abruptly began squawking and quaking.

"Why did it wait so long?" Brin wondered. "I've been holding it this whole time."

"Maybe to give us some quality mother-daughter time," Breetuk eagerly suggested. "I'm going to tell father and the others to come join us."

-:-:-

Brom wandered aimlessly away from the shrill squeaks issuing from the village square, wishing his part elven ears weren't quite so keen. _Not good enough for me?_ he incredulously wondered. And then with even deeper disdain, _I'm too_ perfect _? Please!_

Apparently everyone knew he liked Brin. For as long as he could remember, he had. Before his feelings had deepened into affection, he had loved how lighthearted and fun she was. She often helped him realize he was being too serious and easily redirected his deep thoughtfulness to less weighty subjects. She seemed like a perfect balance for him, and he loved being around her because of it. So he tried to be around her more.

And it was then he began to realize that he loved her bright yellow eyes because they reminded him of sunshine. He loved her long, thick, wavy black hair. And her pale gray skin seemed perfect to him. When her horns had started to emerge, he had been nearly as excited as she. They only made her more special and unique in his eyes.

But beyond being his good friend and delighting in teasing him, Brin had never seemed to progress to the place Brom had, of wishing they could be more than just friends. And he had never understood why. But the conversation he had just unintentionally overheard had rekindled one of his deepest insecurities when it came to this matter. He wasn't an Urgal, and maybe that was why Brin didn't like him. He would most likely never be as tall or strong as an Urgal, though he was bound to be tall and strong for an elf or human.

Over the years, he and Brin had had an ongoing competition of who would end up taller between the two of them. Brom still perfectly remembered one such instance. When he was fourteen and Brin was thirteen, all of their friends from Ilirea had just arrived on the Isle for a visit. Brin had just finished a growth spurt and was obviously taller than he, but Brom always did everything he could to _appear_ taller. On that day, he had surreptitiously stepped onto a rock while he thought none of his friends were looking.

No one had _seemed_ to notice, and the conversation carried on. Someone commented about how tall Ginnee—Brin's younger sister—was getting, and that she must be Kull like her parents. This remark was followed by the inevitable turn of heads and eyes toward Brin, who was clearly not Kull and was a good four inches shorter than her younger sister.

This hadn't bothered Brin, however, and she proudly said, "But I'm taller than Brom again!"

"No you're not," Brom calmly asserted. "Just look."

"I _am_ ," Brin teased. "Right at the _rock_ you're standing on to give yourself a boost."

Brom had flushed deep scarlet at this, but had eventually been able to laugh along with the others. Thinking back on it again made him smile.

They were currently about eye to eye. Brom hoped he would have a late growth spurt like his father and end up maybe at least an inch taller than Brin. But he knew he would never have the bulky musculature of an adult Urgal ram, and though she had implied otherwise, maybe Brin wasn't interested in a comparatively scrawny human-elf half breed.

But even more concerning than that to Brom was the idea that maybe Brin wanted more from a _mate._ Brom had heard of the amazing ability Urgal rams had. Back when he was younger and the adults had still talked openly about such things around the little ones, thinking them too young and naïve to understand or be interested, Brom had overheard talk of Urgal rams and their endless lovemaking capabilities. And his understanding was that male humans, elves, and dwarves were different, which meant he was too.

Brom sighed in frustration and realized he had been making his way toward Talon.

 _Hi, Talon,_ he dejectedly thought.

 _Brom_ , his dragon cautiously greeted. _Is the new dragon hatching?_

 _Yes,_ Brom replied. _For Brin._

 _Ah,_ Talon said. _And things are as they always have been._

 _And always will be, from the looks of it,_ Brom confirmed.

 _I am sorry, Brom,_ the dragon helplessly offered. After a moment of thought, he hopefully added, _At least she thinks you are handsome._

Brom smiled halfheartedly and stroked Talon's snout. _Thanks, Talon. If only it was enough._

Talon said nothing in reply, and Brom sensed that his dragon didn't know how to comfort or encourage him.

-:-:-:-


	20. First Youth Camp

**A/N:** So today (Nov. 4th) is my 33rd birthday, which feels sorta weird. Since I've been writing about teenagers, I somehow feel younger again, not that thirty-three is old. :) But my husband took the day off of work and headed up the home school efforts today so I would have an opportunity to work on my writing. And he's spoiling me in tons of other ways today. He's so great, you guys! I really hope you ladies out there will insist on being treated respectfully by your male peers, and I hope you men will show them the proper respect and chivalry. And, conversely, I hope you girls will honor the men in your lives for their irreplaceable role and show them the respect they deserve. My husband is the most responsible man I know. He has always taken care of us, and he's an amazing father. In fact, if you're curious about where I got my inspiration for the way I write the fathers in _The Cycle Continues,_ it was from my husband. He plays all of those games ("get you" or chase, secrets, and hide and seek) with our sons, and it's precious to watch. So anyway, here is Chapter 20, a few days early as a birthday present from me to you, since almost nothing makes me happier than sharing with my faithful few readers where the story is going.

* * *

 **20\. First Youth Camp**

The first official Dragon Rider Youth Camp began the next morning in the village square. True to their word, the more senior Riders had left the planning up to their Dragon Rider children. The young people had decided to start the Camp with a question and answer segment, which would give the attendees an opportunity to get to know them better, though plenty of that had been happening throughout the entire twelve-week duration of the Choosing Ceremony.

They set up a raised platform at the head of the square where they would sit so the gathered Urgralgra youth would be able to see them. Since they were the oldest young Dragon Riders with Urgralgra heritage, Var and Will were nominated to be in charge of the Camp's proceedings.

After breakfast, the Urgralgra crowd assembled together and waited in noisy anticipation for the young Dragon Riders to take the stand and begin the Camp. The Urgal Choosing Ceremony had been far more boisterous than the Elf Choosing Ceremony. For one thing, there were more than ten times as many young people. And they were all of a race that prized fighting more highly than anything else, unlike the elves, where courtesy and decorum ruled.

As a result, there had never been a quiet, boring day. The young Urgals had constantly engaged in friendly brawling. They had also spent a great deal of time swimming in the lake and playing in the forest. Plenty of romances had sprung up over the course of the Choosing Ceremony, but never any between the candidates at the Ceremony and the young Dragon Riders or their siblings, as was secretly hoped by some of the attendees.

In former years, the youth would often begin to return home in groups as their time with the dragon egg came and went. But this year everyone had stayed on for the Youth Camp. Fortunately, Nar Garzhvog, war chief of the Bolvek tribe, hadn't been excessively burdened by the enormous number of young Urgals staying in his village for nearly three months. The Urgralgra were, as a whole, respectful and helpful. They had never performed any vandalism and had contributed to their sustenance while relying on the hospitality of the Bolvek clan.

Once it was clear that everyone was ready, Var led his companions to the podium at the front of the crowd and they all sat down at the long table. Silence immediately fell over the large congregation. Var cast a spell that would magnify the voices of all on the stand so they would carry all the way to those farthest back.

He commenced the Youth Camp by saying in Urgralish, "Young Urgralgra, welcome to the first Dragon Rider Youth Camp! We're excited to be holding these. It will be an opportunity for us to get to know each other better. My brother Will is going to explain why we decided to do this."

Will grinned and took over. "I'm actually Var. He's Will. Always joking around, Will is. Trying to get people confused about who's who. So remember, Will has longer hair and Var's is shorter."

Var rolled his eyes. "Never trust anything that comes out of Will's mouth," he warned. " _I_ really am Var, and my hair is longer so I look more like my father Varhog, for whom I was named. Though maybe Will's should be longer since he's named after our mother and her hair actually _is_ quite a bit longer than father's."

Many of the youth in the crowd snickered. A fair few of them were already familiar with Var and Will's good-natured bantering.

"I'm not named after mother, Var," Will patiently reminded. "I'm named after her father _William_. Var's memory isn't that great," he apologized to the crowd. "Too many hits to the head growing up. From yours truly." He chuckled along with their spectators and finally mustered the needed seriousness to explain why he and Lena had come up with the idea for holding Youth Camps.

Upon concluding his brief speech, Will said, "So in order to allow you to get to know us better, we've decided that we'll start the camp with a question and answer panel. Anyone from the crowd can ask any of us up here on the podium any question you want, except for things that are vulgar, offensive, or otherwise inappropriate. We'll start off by saying our names—though most of you already know us from how much time we spend in this village—so you can address by name the person you want to ask a question to."

Will looked again at Var and grinned as he said, "I'm Var."

Var punched him in the shoulder, and Will chortled while gingerly rubbing his shoulder. "So serious," he then chided. "Very well. I'm actually Will. And you've had the pleasure of meeting my _older_ brother Var."

"Yep," Var agreed. "I'll never forget the three minute head start I got on you. Our parents are Varhog of the Bolvek clan, first Urgralgra Dragon Rider, and Willow of Feinster, the best human Dragon Rider in existence. No offense, Ajh."

"None taken," Ajh mildly said. "You know I agree. Just don't tell my father or Uncle Tomath."

Var laughed. "You're up, Brom."

Brom smiled and said, "I'm Brom, oldest son of Eragon and Arya Shadeslayers. And since my father looks more like an elf, I guess I'll let the best human Rider in existence thing slide."

"And since we could beat you in a wrestling match," Will joked.

"That too," Brom agreed. "Though not in a sword fight." Will nodded ruefully to show his agreement.

"We want to see some fighting!" shouted an eager young ram in the crowd.

"Oh you will," Var promised. "That's coming next, so it just depends on how many questions you ask. Go ahead Zadí," he then invited.

Looking out over the crowd, Zadí smiled and cheerfully said in Urgralish, "I'm Zadí. His younger sister." She elbowed Brom. "So same mother and father, last time we checked." This earned several guffaws from the appreciative audience.

"And how about you, beautiful?" one of the nearest Urgal rams called to Brin. "What's your name?"

Brin rolled her eyes in exasperation. "As if you don't know, Rintog," she testily said. Rintog was a ram she had known since she could remember anything. He lived in the Bolvek village and was two years her senior. "But for the rest of you who _don't_ already know, I'm Brin. My father is Grintuk from Anghelm, my mother Breetuk of the Bolvek tribe. Both Urgal Riders."

The ram whistled his approval, and Brin determinedly ignored him while trying to keep an amused expression from her face. These Urgal rams were always so bold and, while immensely irritating, it was also slightly humorous. So different from Brom's almost timid reticence.

Lena and Ajh introduced themselves next. Then Nefin and Hanna. Keeta went last, and the question and answer panel began.

A rather surly-looking, twenty-three-year-old ram from Anghelm named Kentuk, whom Brin recognized, curtly said, "After Will explained the purpose for these Camps, it seemed a perfect opportunity to ask my question. Why are so many Dragon Riders' children being chosen as new Dragon Riders? I was at the last Urgal Choosing Ceremony, which was the last one where someone other than a relative of the Dragon Riders was chosen. In the five years since, _seven_ new people became Riders, not five, and _all_ of them have parents who are also Riders. Three of those happened on the Isle of the Eldunarí, when there wasn't a formal Ceremony being held and no one else had a hope of being considered. It doesn't seem fair. Why did the dragon pick Brin? Is she somehow better than the rest of us?"

Brin's eyes widened at the ram's obvious hostility. She was at a loss as to how she should answer, but Brom spoke up.

"That's a really good question," he said in a neutral voice. "What's your name?"

"Kentuk," the ram shortly responded.

"Kentuk," Brom repeated. "Do you mind if I try to answer? I was the first of the Riders' children to be selected, so maybe that somehow qualifies me."

"Go ahead," Kentuk allowed.

"We don't really know why," Brom then answered. "But since I realize that's hardly a satisfactory answer, I will try to elaborate. The Riders don't choose to be chosen. No one has ever really understood how the dragons do it, but they can actually sense something about the world around them from within their shells. They choose to hatch when they're ready, and in the case of eggs destined for Riders, when they have found the person they want as their bonded partner for the rest of time."

Brom paused before continuing, "I'm not sure how much those in this audience know about Galbatorix's reign, but he had three dragon eggs in his possession for nearly a hundred years. He did everything he could think of to get those eggs to hatch, and they never did until the eggs were placed in the possession of the three meant to be their Riders. As you most likely know, the blue one hatched for my father, the red one for my uncle, and the green one for my mother. But until then, Galbatorix was completely helpless to accomplish his desire. You could drop a dragon egg from the highest cliff and it wouldn't crack. Hammer on it with a steel mallet, slash at it with a Rider's sword, do anything you want to try to break it open and it wouldn't happen until the dragon inside was ready to emerge."

Here Nefin quietly inserted, "Remember the Battle of Broken Egg and Scattered Nest."

Brom glanced over at him with a grin. "Yes, of course. Thank you, Nefin. Would you like to address that?"

Nefin shrugged. "Sure." He spoke up, though Var's spell was already carrying his soft-spoken words to the crowd. "During Du Fyrn Skulblaka, which was the war between dragons and elves, a group of elves ambushed an ancient nesting place of the dragons near Ellesméra, known today simply as the Stone of Broken Eggs. During this attack, the elves killed many of the sleeping dragons and destroyed their eggs. The difference between what happened there and what Brom was just talking about has to do with those elves' intentions. They used magic to destroy the eggs because they wanted to _kill_ the baby dragons inside, and once that happens, the egg can be broken open. Something about the dragons' magic is responsible for this indestructible characteristic of their eggs. But Galbatorix wanted his three eggs to hatch with the young dragons unharmed, and there's nothing you can do to force that outcome before the dragon inside is ready to emerge, particularly since those three had already been enchanted by the Riders only to hatch when the dragon inside had found its chosen Rider, as Brom explained. But an unhatched dragon could be killed while still inside its egg using magic."

The resentful expression on Kentuk's face had begun to soften, but Brom apparently had more to say. "Before my dragon, Talon, hatched for me and after Brin's mother was chosen, twelve Dragon Riders from all over Alagaёsia joined the Riders, and none of them had any relation to other Dragon Riders. The only thing I can say with any degree of certainty is that the dragons traditionally hatch for people with similar values—strong morals, peaceful tendencies, and a thirst for knowledge—in other words, people who are unlikely to abuse the power that comes along with being a Dragon Rider."

Brom took a deep breath. "I know it sounds like I'm implying that those of us up here who were chosen are therefore somehow better than the other youth in Alagaёsia, but that's really not what I'm getting at. We have grown up with Dragon Riders as our parents, so is it really any surprise that we have all of the same beliefs and values of people who are typically chosen as Dragon Riders? The Riders have such great abilities that the only true threat to our order is dissent within our ranks, which was what happened before Galbatorix's rise to power. New Riders are usually those who feel completely undeserving, not those who _want_ to be one because they think they would make such a fantastic contribution to the Riders. Most people idolize the Riders with an unwarranted sense of reverence or deference, which is one reason my father felt it needful to isolate the Riders from Alagaёsia for so long. People who don't understand the responsibility that goes along with our increased power tend to perceive our lives as very privileged and luxurious. But that's not how it really is, and we're hoping you have the chance to learn that for yourselves during this question and answer panel."

Brom smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry to be so longwinded, Kentuk. I guess the summary is this—we don't chose to become Riders, the dragons choose. And they try to choose those who will best fulfill the huge responsibility of maintaining peace in a land of so many various races with such a history of war and animosity. The Dragon Riders began to keep the elves and dragons from killing each other off, and that initial purpose has extended to ensure peace between _all_ of the races in the land. Does that help?"

Kentuk nodded. "Thank you," he quietly said.

Lena spoke up by saying, "May I add something, Brom?"

"Please," he invited.

Lena looked out over the crowd and, with a confidence that seemed completely natural, said, "I'm the oldest female child of the Dragon Riders, and I have never been chosen as a Rider. Kentuk, I actually understand exactly what you were expressing. For a couple of years, especially after my younger brother became a Rider, I was really jealous and somehow felt inferior since I had never been chosen. But I've had a couple of really important realizations in the time since, and I want to share them with those in this crowd."

She paused and made eye contact with several members of the audience. "Since Ajh and I spend more time in Alagaёsia than any of these others, I was the first to notice my peers' resentful, bitter feelings that so many children of Dragon Riders were becoming Dragon Riders themselves. But there was a key difference between the way I felt and the way other youth felt. My peers somehow seemed to believe that the young Dragon Riders were arrogant and self-absorbed, since they spent so much time away from Alagaёsia. But that is one thing I never personally experienced because I know the truth. And it's the main reason I wanted to hold these camps. I want you all to have a firsthand experience getting to know what amazing people my friends and cousins are."

Lena turned to smile at Will when she seemed to feel his adoring eyes on her. Then she faced forward again and resumed speaking. "Dragon Riders are some of the best people you will ever have the privilege of knowing. And while I understand the feelings of worshipful reverence many people feel toward them—since they have a dragon, can use magic, and are such amazing fighters—their lives are not as glamorous as outward appearances suggest. Ajh has to work twice as hard as I do, simply because he has to devote attention to all of his Dragon Rider responsibilities on top of the other duties we have in Ilirea. The Dragon Riders are always being watched wherever they go. They feel an enormous pressure to always behave appropriately and live an exemplary life. Think about it. If any of you saw a Dragon Rider do something like steal or harm another person, wouldn't you somehow feel justified in doing the same? As Brom said, they do not live lives of luxury or ease. They work as hard as any farmers to sustain their simple lifestyle on the Isle, in addition to carrying out the nobler duties more commonly associated with the calling.

"And while all of the current Dragon Riders fit the mold I have described, we would be foolish to forget the infamous Dragon Riders of recent memory. The most feared tyrant of our times was a Dragon Rider who abused his power, even Galbatorix. My own grandfather was Morzan, Galbatorix's right-hand man. And those in this group are more intimately familiar with the despotic reign of King Kulkarvek, who became what he was because of the misguided actions of several haughty Dragon Riders who misunderstood the Urgralgra race, and ultimately through a vengeful curse cast by Galbatorix himself. Is it any surprise, then, that the dragons are so careful in choosing those they feel will not repeat the mistakes of the past?"

Lena again stopped for a moment to let this sink in. Then, with a note of conclusion, she finished, "The last thing I want to say about this is by way of encouragement. The most important thing I have come to realize is that I can still make a difference without being a Dragon Rider. Their ability to improve the world is enhanced by the gifts that go along with their bond to a dragon, but being a Dragon Rider isn't a prerequisite for being able to shape the world around us for the better. Far from it! If all of us had to be Dragon Riders to perform good in the land, the world would be a much darker place. Though there are now over thirty Dragon Riders, their numbers are still comparatively so few. Consider what you know about my mother or Roran Stronghammer, Earl of Palancar Valley. As normal humans without any special gifts, they played central roles in overcoming Galbatorix. And at the time that my aunt, Arya Shadeslayer, slew Shruikan, she also was not a Dragon Rider. Please take the opportunity right now to ask whatever questions you desire in an effort to better understand my friends. I can't bear the thought of people disliking them simply because they happened to be chosen as Dragon Riders. I promise they were worthy of the calling and are some of the best people you will ever know."

As Lena concluded her fervent speech, the crowd unexpectedly broke into applause. Will joined them, and Lena glanced at him again. When the clapping died down, a thoughtful silence replaced it as the crowd contemplated Brom and Lena's extensive responses to the first question. Apparently their words also reassured some of the others, but there was a distinct sense of intimidation at voicing the next query, since the first had elicited such a lengthy discourse.

But eventually someone mustered the courage to break the silence, plainly demonstrating that not all of them had felt the same concern as Kentuk.

After awkwardly clearing his throat, the same Urgal ram who had whistled at Brin brought up a completely different subject. "Brin, do you have a sweetheart?" Rintog asked with a wink.

Brin reluctantly looked over at him. "No," she shortly replied. "Nor do I want one, so don't get any ideas, Rintog."

"What if he could defeat you in a fight?" Rintog hopefully asked.

Brin barked a skeptical laugh. "Sure, Rintog. I'd consider _any_ male who could defeat me in a fight as a potential romantic interest. But you and I both know that won't happen anytime soon. If ever, so wipe that hopeful look off your face." Brom kept his eyes on the speaking ram with an expression of calm indifference at Brin's words.

Rintog only grinned. "A ram can hope," he optimistically finished. "Given enough time, someone's sure to find your weakness."

Brin scoffed but couldn't keep her eyes from flitting to Brom for the briefest fraction of a second, something she could see he obviously noticed, though his eyes never wavered from their current location. If anyone could do as the ram suggested, it was Brom, with his ability to focus so intently and learn so quickly. Brin almost wished she hadn't issued the unintentional challenge, but part of her was glad. If Brom got it into his head to try to best her, at least she would learn to be far better with a sword than she currently was, which was exceptional. But Brom was still better. Brin had necessarily learned how to use dozens of weapons and methods of combat but had never developed the level of expertise Nefin, Brom, and Keeta had by focusing on only one discipline.

Rintog followed up his first question with, "Where's your new dragon, beautiful?"

"Enough, Rintog," Brin snapped. "She's with my parents and hers, my parents' dragons. I'll bring her in a few days when we take people up to fly."

"What did you name her, Brin?" one of her close female friends curiously asked.

"I haven't decided yet," Brin said. This friend was actually the daughter of Breetuk's best girlhood friend, Nayvek. "My mother told me yours has a knack for dragon-naming, or at least coming up with good possibilities. Maybe I'll get her input." Brin's friend smiled.

Another of Brin's friends, who was standing right next to the first, spoke next. Inspired by Rintog's romantic inquiry, which apparently was a topic of great interest for the Urgralgra youth, she addressed Will and coquettishly asked, "Do _you_ have a sweetheart, Will?"

"I sure do!" Will proudly exclaimed, putting his arm around Lena, who was sitting beside him. "Lena's my girl! And can you blame me? She's amazing, as you clearly just heard."

Lena looked over at him with a patient smile. Will kissed her cheek, which earned him an approving "Ooooohhh," from the crowd.

The female who had asked only looked slightly disappointed, for she then eagerly added, "Are you going to get married?"

"Someday," Will confirmed.

"But she's the crown princess," the Urgal girl pointed out.

"Yes," Will kindly agreed. "But it's not that big of a stretch to say I'm an Urgal prince. You all know who my mother is and that she is recognized by the majority of our race as rightful queen of the Urgralgra, though she's as stubborn as ever about denying it."

The girl nodded her reverent agreement. All Urgralgra knew of Willow and how she had defeated the former Urgal King Kulkarvek.

Brin's close friend then asked, "Well, how about you, Var? Has someone also won your fancy?"

"Indeed," Var replied with mock apology. "Though I can't say I am as fortunate as my _younger_ brother in knowing that the lovely lass returns my affection. But it's safe to say that my heart is not available. Sorry, ladies."

A sound—somewhere between a sigh and a moan—of disappointment simultaneously left the female segment of the crowd. The youth on the platform laughed.

Var said, "Is anyone else desperately curious to know about our romantic interests? Maybe we can move on to a different topic."

An unidentifiable female voice from the back cried, "Brom, will you marry me?"

Brom laughed. "Are you sure I'm worthy to seek a mate according to Urgralish custom? Wouldn't it be a pity if you came to learn that I'm useless in a fight and would never be able to protect you or our cubs?"

"I don't care!" the desperate voice returned. "Besides, none of you Dragon Riders is useless in a fight."

"Be that as it may," Brom good-naturedly said, "I still think the male is expected to ask, even among the Urgralgra. Sorry, my friend. I too am as unavailable as Var and Will."

Another "Ooooohhh" filled the air. Many calls of "Who? Who?" then followed.

"She would most definitely prefer for me not to reveal that," Brom said, never looking away from the crowd. "So I won't. And I wouldn't dream of spoiling your fun by simply telling you. For all you know, it could be one of you."

Several ridiculous shrieks of "Aahhh!" then pierced the ears of those on the stand as many hopeful, twitterpated females reacted to this statement. Brom merely smiled and continued studiously avoiding any peek in Brin's direction.

The obligatory interrogation about love lives then proceeded along the rest of the line. Fourteen-year-old Zadí sweetly denied having a beau, as did Hanna. Ajh chuckled merrily and insisted he also had no love interest. Keeta replied much like Var had, saying she cared for someone who didn't return her regard. But she then teasingly added that she was therefore wide open as a prospect for all of the tall Urgal rams. Many deep-chested chuckles answered her cheerful joke. Nefin quietly stated that he didn't have a sweetheart and wasn't interested, and no one but Brin noticed that the twinkle in Keeta's eyes dimmed slightly, though her merry smile never left her face.

This line of questioning took the better part of the first hour. When the youth in the crowd had _finally_ satisfied their curiosity on the matter, someone asked, "How many languages do you all speak? Every one of you has answered every question in flawless Urgralish."

"Do you want someone in particular to answer?" Var asked.

"Yes," the ram said. "Brin."

Brin sighed. "We all speak the ancient language, which is the default on the Isle of the Eldunarí where we all live part of the year. By the same token, we all speak Urgralish, since many of us spend a lot of time the rest of the year in an Urgal village. Those who don't spend as much time here—like Lena, Ajh, Nefin, Hanna, and Keeta—still learn Urgralish. The elves and Keeta learn on the Isle, where any of their instruction under an Urgal mentor takes place in Urgralish. The royal children learn in Ilirea from a tutor. Our parents expect us to be able to communicate in the main languages of Alagaёsia. We hear the common tongue from some of our mentors on the Isle. And we also learn Dwarvish. That's what Keeta speaks with her family, and the rest of us learn from the dwarven Riders or the Eldunarí."

This naturally led to a question about the Eldunarí, which Lena chose to answer, since it was open to anyone. Brom added only a little to her explanation.

An inquisitive female near the front then asked Will what life was like on the Isle of the Eldunarí.

Will answered, "Really hard. It's not always fun and games, but there's plenty of that too. The Dragon Riders have never had servants or hired help. We run the whole operation off our own efforts. We grow all of our own food, make all of our own clothes and supplies. Granted, all of that is easier with magic, which so many of the residents of the Isle can use. But we children are expected to contribute to all of that—in the form of planting, weeding, harvesting, and so forth—while also attending to our studies. When we were younger, the most that was required of us in any given day was to do plenty of playing, so long as we spent some time learning morals from mother or father and working alongside them. That's what little children should learn. Right from wrong, good from bad, true from false. Things like that. But other than that, we were allowed to play as much as we wanted. Our parents always read to us and we naturally took to reading and writing as a result of watching them do those things." He looked expectantly at Var.

So Var took up the explanation. "As we grew older, we began to broaden our interests, which all of our mentors and parents always encouraged. The Isle has been building an impressive library over the years. Our parents supported whatever we wanted to learn about with books from the library and hands-on experiences. And each of us ten up here has had very specific skills to master starting from the time we were six. For me and Will it has been to learn about sailing ships. How to build them, how to sail them, and how to navigate one on the ocean using the sky. The others all have different areas of expertise. But once we reached the age of twelve or thirteen, we all began studying on our own for most of the hours of the day. That included a lot of reading, a lot of writing, a lot of discussion and debate, and plenty of practice. Once any of us became Dragon Riders, we also had to add fighting and magic study to our schedules, but most of us have learned how to fight in some way almost by default, since it's such an integral part of being a Dragon Rider."

"Don't forget babysitting," Brin muttered. But since their voices were magically amplified, the whole crowd heard and laughed anyway.

"Oh yes," Var agreed. "Why don't you tell them about that, Brin?"

"As if our days weren't full enough," Brin grandly continued, "we're also expected to babysit the dozens of children our parents produce at an alarming rate, so they can go off and be alone together on certain evenings in order to create even _more_. My sister and I have six younger brothers and another baby on the way."

The Urgals laughed knowingly and murmured in understanding. Large families were very normal in their culture, something the elves would have been completely unfamiliar with.

Since Brin was talking, the bold ram who seemed particularly taken with her queried, "What's your area of expertise, Brin?"

"Fighting," she said. "Which is the _only_ reason why I can take you down so easily, Rintog."

"And exactly the reason I'm so crazy about you," Rintog returned.

"Oh please," Brin groaned. "Someone else now."

Brom immediately obliged. "I have learned how to use my mind to control magic," he benignly contributed, though it was only a thin façade for his envy of the ram who spoke to Brin so boldly and hopefully. "And I can enter someone's mind without them being aware and know everything they're thinking." He continued to stare at Rintog as he spoke, and the ram looked back with wide, disbelieving eyes.

"It's true," Brom went on in that same calm voice. He paused and said nothing for several seconds, during which time Rintog's face continued to grow more incredulous and fearful. Brom finally laughed, and Brin snickered at the same time. Then Brom said, "But I never do without someone's permission. Unless, of course, they happen to be threatening someone I love."

Brin knew Brom had heard her laugh—his ears were so sharp!—and she was perfectly aware that his final words had been for her alone. Rintog was completely oblivious to the fact that Brom cared for her and perceived Rintog's incessant advances as threatening simply because Brin did.

"I'll keep that in mind," Rintog nervously said, and Brin laughed again. Brom only smiled slightly and looked over at Zadí.

"How about you, little sister?" Brom pleasantly invited.

Zadí rolled her eyes as if to say, _No, big_ brother _. My talent is pathetic compared to yours._

Rintog spared her the necessity of answering right away by saying, "Wait, I wanted to ask why. Why are you supposed to learn how to be such a good fighter?"

"I honestly don't know," Brin said. "None of us really know why we've been told to master these skills. But it seems really important."

"Surely you've had some clue?" Rintog pressed.

Brin shrugged. "Not really—"

But Keeta interrupted her by saying, "There's an expectation that Brin will have to serve as a bodyguard at some point." Keeta smiled teasingly and winked at Brin.

"Keeta!" Brin hissed, but the spell making their voices louder carried her frustrated whisper to the whole crowd, and Brin found herself hating that effect more and more.

Keeta shrugged. "The ram wanted to know, Brin."

"For whom?" Rintog demanded. "One of these others?"

"I'm not telling!" Brin insisted. "And none of the rest of you better either," she menacingly added. "You know who'd come out on top in a fight."

The other seven besides Keeta and Brom looked at her innocently. Brom kept his eyes on the long table in front of them.

"Why not tell?" Rintog asked. "I'm really just curious."

Brin sighed. "Someone important," she finally said. "Which is why they'll need a bodyguard. But that's all I'm going to say. Zadí, isn't it your turn?"

Zadí sympathetically smiled at Brin, and Brin thought she knew why. Zadí was another female who had unintentionally won the affection of one of the three young male Dragon Riders and who seemed just as uncertain about it, though at fourteen, Brin thought Zadí had a better excuse than she did.

Zadí then said with feigned dignity, "My _amazing_ ability is to smile dazzlingly and get anyone to do whatever I want." She flashed the brilliant weapon at Rintog and teased, "Did it work?"

Rintog stammered for a moment then flushed. "I guess you could say that. If by 'work' you mean that I just went weak in the knees and think I'd do just about anything to see you smile again."

Zadí blushed. "Well, there you have it. That's all I can do, folks. Show's over." She turned to her side to indicate that her neighbor continue and take the spotlight away from her, found herself staring straight at Var, and turned back forward, blushing even deeper.

Var chuckled, gave Rintog the same sympathetic look Zadí had given Brin, and soothingly put his arm around Zadí's shoulders. "Told you, Izzie," he quipped. "I'm not the only one."

"Cut it out, Var," she warned in an undertone that the spell mercilessly carried to every eager listener.

"We really need to get rid of that spell," Brin dryly remarked, and the whole crowd laughed.

"No!" someone from the back shouted. "We're quite enjoying this drama, and it's wonderful that we can hear it all the way back here."

"Ajh, you go next," Brin suggested. "Everyone in this crowd will no doubt appreciate your skill as much as they do mine. And they might even insist you demonstrate just as much."

Ajh gladly spoke up for several minutes, telling the delighted crowd all about his talent for cooking and everything food related. He shared a few humorous anecdotes from his experiences in the royal kitchens in Ilirea and imitated his favorite chef. By the time he finished, he had the crowd rolling with his natural charm and good humor.

Everyone at the table regarded him gratefully as the attention then passed to Lena, who briefly and modestly explained that she had simply been instructed to sharpen her mind and learn how to reason her way through difficult problems.

Nefin's talent of tracking was really interesting to the many Urgals, but his sterile, polite way of talking about it lessened its appeal for the lively crowd. Then Hanna timidly shared her ability to heal and cast protective wards.

Keeta livened up the crowd again with her spirited account of her rather boring ability to organize, plan, and manage tedious facts and figures. She was as cheerful and comfortable as Ajh in front of the huge audience, and somehow her many jokes about math and numbers got the crowd roaring with laughter. Brin was most gratified to see Nefin smiling quietly at her best friend's antics, though Keeta never let on that she noticed the attention.

By then it was late afternoon. Though some of the youth seemed willing to carry on all night, most of them had begun to look in the direction from which wafted the delicious smells of an early dinner. The questions and answers had consumed nearly the whole day, and the hundreds of Urgralgra youth had voracious appetites demanding to be satisfied after missing lunch.

So the first day of the Youth Camp concluded as it had begun—with an animated meal. And the Urgals retired to their camps that evening with an even greater eagerness than when they had awakened that morning. The morrow would bring the most highly anticipated event of the Urgal Camp, which was a fighting demonstration and instruction with all of the young Dragon Riders, who now felt like their friends.

* * *

 **A/N:** I know I already left a long A/N at the top, but I'm putting another one here. I'm sure people who don't like A/Ns just skip them anyway. So I hope my friend fredo747 recognized the answer to his concern in the speeches made by Brom and Lena. And my inspiration for the approach to the young people's education is found in the home school philosophy my husband and I love and use, which is referred to as "Thomas Jefferson Education," or "Leadership Education."

I wanted to take a moment and say a few words about something somewhat related and also slightly off-topic. I would imagine that some of my readers perceive my portrayal of the Dragon Riders, and especially the young Dragon Riders, as idealistic and unrealistic. Some of you might feel like there aren't people like them in the real world. I want to inform you that I happen to know that isn't true. Many of you know by now that I am a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. And when I write about these young people, I always envision a group of young men or women from my church. These youth are truly exemplary, and if you think you don't know any, you might be surprised. Where I live, members of my church are usually part of the majority, but everywhere else in the world, they are a small minority. So think about people in your school or where you work. If you happen to be aware of anyone who doesn't use profanity, dresses modestly, doesn't drink or smoke, tends to act respectfully toward their peers and adults around them, doesn't have tattoos or extensive body piercings, and sometimes just seems to be happy or have an unexplained light about them, you might know a Latter-day Saint, or member of my church (which is _not_ to say that only members of my church can display these attributes or engage in these behaviors!). If you want to see a group of young people who can have fun together without any sexually inappropriate behavior, without the use of any drugs or alcohol, and without engaging in crude talk or humor, look up a branch of my church in your area. It's all around the world, and I can virtually guarantee that you would be welcomed wholeheartedly. We are encouraged to share our beliefs, and they would be thrilled to include anyone with a desire simply to get to know them better. You might feel like you landed right in the middle of my seven young Dragon Riders and their three siblings, because these kids and/or young adults know how to have fun in a wholesome, teasing, lighthearted way, and yet they also understand some very simple truths that have the potential to really add meaning and direction to your lives.

A great place to start would be www . mormon . org. You can read profiles of members of my church from all walks of life and all around the world. And you can find information on how to find a local unit. Anyway, I rarely talk religion in A/Ns. In fact, this is the first time I have. It won't become a regular habit, but I felt this was an appropriate chapter to extend that invitation since you get a deeper glimpse into the kind of lives these teenagers lead. Love ya! Autumn :)


	21. Fight for You

**21\. Fight for You**

Before beginning the day's activities the following morning, the ten young Dragon Riders and their siblings met for a brief discussion of how they wanted the fighting demonstration to proceed.

"Yesterday it sounded like they want to see _us_ fight first," Var pointed out. "Brin, how do you feel about that?"

"Fine," Brin said. "But if any of them asked to fight us, I'm not sure. You know the rams—all of them—would line up to fight me. Especially after that idiotic statement I made yesterday. And I'd probably be really tired by the end, so one of them might actually stand a chance."

"You only said you would _consider_ a male as a romantic interest if he could defeat you," Keeta reminded her. "You didn't promise to be their mate."

"It probably amounts to much the same in their minds," Brin said. "But I'd fight any of you. The six of you who became Riders before me would be far more evenly matched with me than any of them."

"I'm sure they'll request to see you fight _all_ of us," Ajh joked. "If only to see you fighting more. Funny how fighting really gets those rams going."

"I wouldn't say _funny_ ," Brin objected. " _Really annoying_ seems more appropriate." Ajh and Keeta laughed.

"Well, I guess we don't have to follow the same rules each camp," Var said. "Since what Brin suggested is a likely outcome among the Urgralgra, we can simply deny any requests for participants to fight with us. But we might do differently at the dwarf Camp next year. Or the human one the year after."

"We _do_ need to lay some ground rules for the questions," Brom muttered. "Such as, 'No questions about sweethearts, romantic interests, or marriage proposals.' That got old." The others nodded vigorously.

"It seems there are a fair few female Urgals interested even in _you,_ dear brother," Zadí teased. "Though you look like an elf."

Brom reached out and tickled her, and Zadí squirmed away. "You sound so shocked, sweetie," he replied as if affronted. "But no one here is as idolized as Brin."

"Are you really surprised?" Zadí relentlessly continued.

Brom sighed. _No comment,_ dear _sister. Stop. You know how she hates that._

Zadí looked properly contrite but didn't reply—verbally or mentally—to Brom's mild reprimand. Brom's mental communication was so brief that no one mentioned it, though several of them guessed what he had done.

Var's sympathetic look at Brom was replaced by his business-like manner as he said, "They're starting to gather. I would imagine they're looking forward to this more than anything else, even the dragon rides. Let's make it a memorable day for them."

-:-:-

So they did. After a brief welcome and explanation, the seven young Dragon Riders began to demonstrate all manner of combat methods. Will and Var went first with the hand-to-hand wrestling the Urgals preferred. Their horns were long enough to allow them to smash and ram one another, which they enthusiastically did, much to the delight of the rapturous onlookers. Brom and Ajh went next with a riveting sword fight, from which Brom emerged the victor, his extensive study with his father clearly revealing itself.

Ajh's cheerful, "I could defeat you in a cooking competition any day," was met with a roar of laughter from the crowd. Nefin and Keeta individually demonstrated their specialties—archery and axe throwing, respectively.

And then, to the spirited chant of, "Br-in, Br-in," Lena and Zadí pushed a reluctant Brin out into the clearing between the small and large groups.

"Who should I fight?" Brin called. "Out of my companions, gentlemen," she quickly added. "We're not opening this to the general public today." A few disappointed groans filled the air at this declaration, but they were quickly quelled.

True to Ajh's prediction, one of the rams—Rintog, actually—said, "All of them. One after the other."

Brin shrugged unconcernedly. She had fought all of them before and it wouldn't be any different. But one look at Brom told her something would be different there. She was almost nervous to find out. He stayed where he was, however, and Var stepped forward with a wide grin on his face—more for show than anything, Brin knew—pretending he wouldn't be subdued within the first few seconds.

Brin immediately saw that Var would be theatrical just to provide good entertainment. He recklessly blundered forward, arms swinging and head down. She played along with him at first, allowing him to catch her on his first lunge, much to his surprise. She laughed at his expression and kept laughing as she elbowed him hard as hard as she could in the gut and swept his feet out from under him when he doubled over in pain. Var was too strong for her to pin him to the ground, so Brin simply drew a small knife hidden in her boot and hurled it with perfect aim to land, quivering, in the ground right beside his neck, clearly demonstrating that he would be dead if she wanted him to be.

Var cautiously eyed the knife as he slowly inched away and sat up. "That was quick," he muttered. "Really, Brin."

"Just following your lead, cousin," she quipped. "Trying to put on a good show. You know I'd never hurt any of you."

"I'm glad you have such a good aim," Var shakily said. He accepted Brin's extended hand and quickly got to his feet. "Go ahead, Will," he invited.

"I'm not so sure," Will balked.

"Come on," Brin said. "I won't hurt you!"

Will chortled and said, "Glad to hear. And glad you're my cousin. And friendly."

They faced each other, and Brin danced away from his first aggressive attacks. Finally, after some appreciative cheers from the crowd, Brin lighted on Will's back and quickly subdued him with the familiar technique she had learned from Aunt Willow and mastered practicing with Uncle Varhog. When Will hit his knees, Brin let go and sprang back to the thunderous applause of the spectators.

Brin retrieved her sword to fight Ajh. Ajh was an excellent swordsman, so they feinted back and forth for a few minutes, but Brin ended the short duel by disarming him with a decisive maneuver and pressing the dulled edge of her blade to his throat from behind. Brin knew a half dozen ways to escape such a trap, but Ajh didn't seem to. Or if he did, he wasn't going to use them. He pled defeat right then.

After each successive triumph, Brin looked over at Brom, questioning with her eyes as to whether he was going to fight her. Each time he steadily returned her gaze and shook his head almost imperceptibly to answer her.

Brin insisted Keeta keep her axe in their standoff. Keeta was so short compared to her that Brin didn't feel it fair otherwise. Keeta, though so often sweet and silly, was a fierce fighter when she wanted to be. Her small stature gave her a few advantages, which experience had revealed to her, and she used them to keep Brin hopping for many minutes, swiping at her legs and rolling between her feet on many occasions. But Brin finally ended this match as well, with Keeta pinned to the ground and her arms held tightly behind her.

When Brom once again denied her silent query, Brin raised her eyebrow at Nefin. "Want a go, Nefin? Elf versus Urgal. You might have a chance."

"Not likely, Brin," Nefin said with a faint smile. "But I'll go. Don't want to seem like a coward."

"None of you are cowards," Brin insisted. "If it was you and your arrows against me and any of my other weapons, I'd be dead in a heartbeat. I've never seen anyone as fast."

"All you need is a shield and some good armor," Nefin returned. "Then you would eventually get to me and have your say."

Brin smiled ruefully. "I didn't choose this," she reminded him and all of her friends. "I'd rather be a mother of ten than this."

"That could be arranged," Rintog shouted from the front of the onlookers.

Brin ignored him. "Shall we, my friend?" she asked Nefin.

Nefin nodded and drew his sword. Brin fought him carefully, knowing that if Brom _did_ want to fight her next, she would need to be even better still than she was with Nefin. Nefin exploited all of his elven abilities to the fullest—speed, agility, and strength. He combined them once in a powerful jump, which proved to be his downfall. As a collective gasp of awe left the crowd when Nefin leaped ten feet in the air to sail over Brin's head, she also jumped and snagged him around his ankle. She knocked the sword from his hand as he sprawled unceremoniously on the ground, placing the tip of her own against his throat.

"I submit," he croaked under the pressure of the blade. "Got a little cocky, didn't I?"

"I'm sure it would have worked almost any other time," Brin consoled.

"But not against you, Brin," Nefin said as she helped him to his feet. "How about you Brom?" Nefin then asked. "Are you in the mood to be humiliated today too?"

"Sure," Brom lightly replied, though his green eyes blazed with a determination Brin had never before seen. Her gut clenched nervously, and Brin wondered what he was thinking.

 _Guess I'll finally find out,_ she thought as Brom drew his sword and stepped forward to face her. Why did he suddenly seem so much handsomer than his already unbelievably good looks should have allowed? Was it because his face was set with that mysterious, unwavering resolve? Brin felt Brom enter not a Rider's fighting mind but his place of single-minded focus. She had seen it so many times when he practiced in the Cave of the Eldunarí with Blödhgarm, and she shivered unconsciously that _she_ was the object of his attention right then. It was completely unsettling.

The corners of Brom's mouth twitched up slightly as he seemed to realize what was going though Brin's mind. She kept her eyes on him and continued circling to match his own movements, while simultaneously trying to clear her mind without closing her eyes or shaking her head.

Brin decided that she didn't want to be on the defensive at the same moment Brom decided to spring forward and begin the fight. She had begun to advance at the same time, and their swords clashed with a ringing crash. He stepped even closer and drove down against her blade with all of his strength. Brin lowered her weapon to maintain her grip and was glad her mental gasp didn't actually come out of her mouth. He was so strong! But he rarely showed it. Why did he seem even stronger than Nefin? It must have had something to do with his unknown purpose for this fight.

Brin twisted to the side and resisted the urge to spin all the way around, knowing Brom would immediately seize the advantage that would give him. She retreated rapidly, and he advanced at the same pace, giving her no opportunity to recover. But she continued to resist him with almost the same level of defiance he seemed to be exhibiting. There was no way she intended to give into the desperation she was beginning to feel. What was Brom playing at?

The fight dragged on for many minutes, and soon they were both glistening with sweat and breathing hard from the exertion. Brom never lost his dogged focus, and Brin was increasingly frantic in her efforts to hold him off. She was only vaguely aware of the crowd bellowing their approval from all sides. From the look in Brom's eyes, he was completely oblivious to it. All he saw or cared about was her, and it was more disconcerting now than it had been at first. When his ghost of a smile from the beginning of their fight took on slightly more substance as he sensed her thinly-veiled panic, Brin abruptly lost control. Brom pounced on her lapse with lightning speed.

Before Brin even registered what went wrong or how it happened, Brom had her pinned from behind and slightly to her side. He wrapped one strong arm around her torso and over her arms just below her elbows to keep them by her sides and held his blade firmly against her throat with the other hand.

Brin's heart was hammering in her chest, and she imagined Brom could most likely feel and hear it. The half dozen ways she knew to escape him paraded mockingly through her mind, but she found herself completely unable to act on any of them, thanks to the absolute distraction of his strong body pressed tightly against her.

Then his mouth was next to her ear and in a fierce, low voice that sent chills— _good_ chills—up her spine, Brom whispered so only she would hear, "I'll fight for you, Brin. I know I seem quiet and timid compared to these rams, but I love you, Brin, and I'll do whatever it takes to prove that, prove I'm worthy of you." He paused and breathed heavily for a moment, struggling to slow _his_ pounding heart, Brin guessed.

He rested his forehead against her horn then demanded, "Now tell me how you could get away so I can learn. Someday I'll catch you and you won't be able to escape."

Brin carefully turned her face toward his—he kept his sword right where it was and didn't relax the pressure against her throat at all—and found herself staring straight into his intense green eyes with their lips almost touching. Her eyebrows raised in surprise at the tendrils of energy that seemed to crackle between them. She tried to move her face back but he stubbornly shook his head and pushed the blade at her throat deeper. If it hadn't been dulled with magic, he would have already drawn blood.

"Tell me," Brom insisted again.

"My horn," Brin answered. "I could turn my head and jab you with it. I could bash the back of my head into your face, bite your hand, or drive my foot up between your legs. Get my shoulder down under your armpit. Stomp on your toes. Kick your knee backwards."

"Good," Brom said in the same firm voice. Then he surprised her by mentally adding, _I'd kiss you right now if you weren't an Urgal, Brin. Though that might only be a problem if the_ Urgal _loves the other as a mate. I may not be as tall or strong as those rams, but I'm strong enough and I'll fight for you Brin. For however long it takes. I'm_ not _perfect and you_ are _worthy of me. No one is as amazing as you, Brin. I could never do better, and I'll love you forever. There. I've finally said it, even if it was only in your mind. Not because I'm afraid to say it out loud, only because I know how much that would embarrass you._ He smiled faintly. _But at least you know._ He looked as if he was seriously considering still kissing her, which made Brin's stomach flutter with a completely different kind of nervousness, then he abruptly released her and stepped back. He raised his eyebrows, effectively asking, _Are we done?_

Brin nodded slowly, still slightly dazed by what had just transpired. Brom had never been so bold, and she was still trying to determine what to make of her jumbled emotions. He never took his eyes off her as she absently rubbed her throat. Nor could _she_ look away, though she wanted to and tried. She was held captive by his eyes as surely as she had been frozen in place by the feel of his powerful body.

The most coherent thought that made its way to the surface of the swirling pool of her emotions was that she was _glad_ he had implied a similar scenario would happen again. Not only once, but as many times as it took until . . . what? Until what? She admitted she loved him? He proved he could defeat her? She couldn't decide in her current state—nor had Brom been clear on that point anyway—but she felt a silly smile of girlish infatuation creep over her face and found herself completely helpless to remove it.

-:-:-

The rest of the day passed more as Brin expected. They evenly divided the huge crowd of Urgralgra youth into seven smaller groups and assigned each to fighting instruction with one of the young Dragon Riders. The Riders each trained their specialty: Var and Will taught wrestling, Brom and Ajh taught swordplay, Nefin taught archery, Keeta taught axe craft, and Brin taught self-defensive hand fighting. The groups rotated to a new instructor every hour, with a break for lunch after the first three hours.

By dinner that evening, the youth were dirty, exhausted, and thrilled. The day had exceeded their wildest expectations, and they were just as excited for tomorrow's activity, which was flying on the dragons.

Brin also experienced a welcome turn of events. Brom had either unknowingly or very intentionally succeeded in proving himself the only one who had even come close to subduing her. As such, the Urgralgra rams all seemed to recognize that he had the most right to pursue Brin, and they subsequently backed off in _their_ relentless efforts to do the same.

Brin unconsciously found her traitor eyes sneaking in Brom's direction more than once that day, and they almost inevitably met his eyes looking back at her, with that same small, challenging smile—could it be called a smirk when it was Brom?—on his face.

* * *

 **A/N:** After reading this chapter, a guest reviewed wondering, "Why Brin?" So I will attempt to explain. First off, that reviewer seemed to think she wasn't as cool as an elf. I thought the elven race in Inheritance Cycle was a little "larger than life." They had so many abilities that made the other races seem so pathetic (super speed, strength, eyesight, hearing, and almost universal magical ability), and not only that, many of them seemed very condescending about the comparative inferiority of the other races (insert Vanir). So, while there were certainly notable exceptions to this general opinion, I didn't actually think the elves were all that fantastic.

The Urgralgra was the only race Paolini didn't develop in as much depth, which might be why I ran wild with it in _The Cycle Continues_ and made their culture into my idea of a utopia. I wouldn't be surprised if someone who hasn't read that story thought of Brin as lesser than some of Brom's other prospects. But in my mind, Brin is pretty dang awesome. Of course, that is an opinion you needn't share. And what it really comes down to is this: Brom loves her, and that's the real reason behind "Why Brin?"

You have to understand that I only have so much control over these characters and this story. I never understood this concept before writing a book, but I remember my husband, who has considered himself a writer for years, saying the same thing, namely: "The story exists, and you simply give it form." That's totally how I feel. Things will happen in this story that I don't like, but they are supposed to happen. If I _forced_ them to change because I'm the one sitting at the keyboard typing the words, I feel like I would be betraying the characters and the story. A line I read in a Stephen King book the other day summarized it really well. He said, "Of course no story except a bad one . . . is ever _completely_ under the writer's control . . ." Not to imply I'm a great author or this is a great story (it's only my second, for crying out loud, and I've only ever "published" on fanfiction . net! :) But there is definitely a force at work in this story that inspires me as to who, what, when, where, and why.


	22. The Camp Concludes

**22\. The Camp Concludes**

The flying day evolved into three, for the _many_ Urgralgra youth all wanted a turn soaring through the sky on a dragon. The older Dragon Riders staying in the village for the duration of the Ceremony and Camp—all of the parents of the next generation—soon became involved in these efforts so the three days wouldn't lengthen into over a week. They all—young and old—felt that keeping the adolescent Urgralgra away from their homes and families for three months was quite a long enough span of time. And many of the tribes had several weeks of travel ahead of them. The Choosing Ceremony had begun in the middle of the summer, and while traveling during the fall days would be pleasant, if the activities didn't end soon, the young Urgralgra would find themselves journeying home with winter's cold days and nights to accompany them.

As the many Urgralgra youth said their goodbyes and made their promises to stay in touch at the conclusion of the first Dragon Rider Youth Camp, they experienced many mixed feelings. Some were tired and anxious to return home. Others were disappointed everything was over and were reluctant to return home. Many shed tears, and more than a dozen new couples set off to begin their lives together. But everyone present universally shared one sentiment—the first ever Dragon Rider Youth Camp was a resounding success.

-:-:-

That evening, after all of the youth had finally departed, Brin made her way to the cliffs overlooking Lake Fläm with her new dragon—who had decided to be called Sunburst—in her arms.

Brin felt tired and content and relieved all at once. So much had happened over the past thirteen weeks. She was now the newest Dragon Rider. This Choosing Ceremony had been the most fun and stressful experience of her life. The Camp had been even more demanding. And her feelings were scarcely more organized than they had been the morning of the fighting demonstration.

Brom.

Brin thought the deep down, nagging truth that she actually loved him was more solid than ever. Yet the surface defiance was also just as stubborn as it always had been. Why? Was it because she now felt like _he_ was also pressuring her, along with everyone else, into a relationship with him?

With these conflicting emotions dueling inside, she almost missed the faint rustle of leaves that indicated someone was approaching. Immediately after that, _his_ voice said, "It's just me, Brin, so put your knife away. I'm not here to attack you."

Brin sheepishly let the knife drop back into her boot and looked over her shoulder to watch Brom approach. Sunburst hopped out of her arms, where Brin thought she had been napping, to scurry over to Talon, who was trailing along behind Brom. The older dragon extended one of his wings, and Sunburst bustled right up it, nestling into the hollow between Talon's shoulder blades.

Brin smiled. Baby dragons were just as adorable as babies of any other species. Sunburst seemed to share none of her Rider's reluctance in demonstrating her innocent adoration of Talon. Brin turned her gaze to Brom.

"Hi, Brom," she cautiously said.

"Brin," he calmly greeted, though his green eyes were boring into hers with the disconcerting intensity only Brom seemed capable of producing. "May I sit with you?"

"Certainly," Brin said, patting the ground next to her.

"How are you?" Brom seriously asked after he sat down, and Brin knew he really wanted to know, wasn't just saying it out of superficial habit.

So she honestly answered, "Exhausted. Happy. Grateful the past three months are finally over." She was staring out over the lake to avoid having to look into those eyes—eyes that seemed able to read the thoughts running through her brain. But she now mustered the courage to glance over at him and finished, "And confused about you, Brom."

"How so?" he intently asked, though his expression betrayed no other reaction to her words.

Brin sighed. Looking back had been a mistake. Now she couldn't look away again. Her eyes had somehow fallen into the frustrating trap created by his unwavering gaze. "That's just it. I don't know. Actually I do, but my two strongest feelings are in complete opposition to each other. And I don't know if I'm brave enough to confess them to you."

"Please try, Brin," Brom entreated. "Please. I just need to know if I even have a chance."

Brin laughed incredulously. "Brom, how can you be so insecure! You're so . . . so . . . I don't even know how to summarize it!"

"Is it because I'm not an Urgal?"

Brin was shocked that he lowered his gaze. That must have been it! And _he_ had enough courage to confess _his_ deepest insecurity.

"Ugh!" Brin exclaimed. "Brom, are you kidding me? You really think I wouldn't like you because you're not an Urgal?"

"Does that have anything to do with it?" Brom pressed.

"You seem to be operating under the assumption that I don't like you," Brin pointed out.

"Well, do you? I mean, do you not? Like me?"

Brin giggled. "Now we're just getting confusing."

The corners of Brom's mouth turned up at the sound of her laugh, but he remained serious and said, "I know about how they—Urgal rams—can carry on endlessly in their lovemaking efforts and I've just wondered . . ." He trailed off, flushed, and then doggedly persisted, "If that might be important to you."

Brin laughed again, even more disbelieving than before. "Brom, nothing could be further from my mind! To show you that I appreciate how difficult it must have been for you to express that, I'll return the favor and try to be honest with you. Let's see if I can remember your first plea. Oh yes! About my conflicting feelings. Answering that will answer your other question too, about whether I like you. On the one hand, I _know_ deep down inside that I'm crazy about you, Brom. There's no other way to put it. But the other shallower, and above all, more stubbornly defiant part of me insists that I'm not going to love you simply because everyone thinks I should. Even though the logical part of me says it's the most reasonable thing to do, that _other_ part says no just to be irritating. Says no _only_ because everyone else is saying yes. Does that make any sense?"

Brin could see that Brom was struggling to subdue his wild hope. "Brin, all I just heard is, 'I'm crazy about you, Brom.' After that, I think my brain stopped working. The rest simply sounded like, 'Give me more time. In time I might come around if I don't feel pressured.' Is that about right?"

Brin smiled. "Something like that," she softly agreed. "If anything, Brom, the fact that _I_ am an Urgal is more of a hang up for me than the fact that _you're_ not. There has never been a relationship between a female Urgal and male of another race, so maybe it's just hard for me to accept. But forget about all that for a minute. I would still feel unworthy because you are one of the most amazing men I know. And I happen to know a lot since my father and all of the most influential males in my life are Dragon Riders. There's just not a better breed of males out there. And you're so talented, incredibly intelligent, powerful, modest, handsome, strong . . . just perfect—"

Brom placed a finger over her lips. "Stop, Brin," he admonished. "I'm _not_ perfect. Too serious, for one thing. _Way_ too serious, which is one reason I'm so drawn to you. You balance me. I love that about you. Take as much time as you need. I'll never pressure you. If you ever find that the 'crazy about Brom' part of you has risen to the surface and drowned the 'refuse to love Brom out of spite' part of you, let me know. If there's ever an 'us,' it will be because you decide you want it. You already know I do, but pretend I didn't just say that. I know it brings out the defiant, hissing Brin."

"Hissing?" Brin repeated with a laugh, raising her eyebrows in exaggerated skepticism. "Honestly, Brom, when have I ever hissed at you?"

"Maybe that was just wishful thinking," Brom mildly replied.

Brin giggled. "Not always too serious. Some of your jokes are pretty good."

" _All_ of yours are, Brin," Brom returned. "May I tell you you're beautiful?"

Brin nodded, almost shyly.

Brom raised his hand back to her face, gently placing it against her cheek. "You're so beautiful, Brin. Can we keep fighting? So I can prove I'm not some weakling half breed who doesn't deserve the strongest, bravest, most amazing girl there is?"

"Sure," Brin agreed as she leaned her face into his hand, loving how warm it was and how his touch made her heart flip-flop in her chest. "Not that you even needed to in the first place, but you already have. Thanks for what you did earlier this week. I'm not sure you planned that consequence, but the last part of the Camp was so much more enjoyable for me, since I didn't have to fight off an endless stream of hopeful rams."

"You're welcome, Brin. I didn't plan it, but I'm glad it happened if it helped you. All I wanted to do was put my arm around you and feel your body next to me. And hope you didn't employ one of your three dozen different methods of rendering me unconscious before I could. Funny that I would never have a hope of doing those two things without a sword held to your throat."

Brin smiled and raised one eyebrow. "There's a confession to make a girl's heart soar," she wryly said. "All of the escape routes I told you ran through my mind right after you pinned me, Brom. Do you want to know why I couldn't employ _any_ of them?"

Brom nodded. He still hadn't dropped his hand down, and he was using his fingers to gently stroke her cheek.

"Because of how much I was enjoying the feel of _your_ strong body pressed against _me_. How about that?"

"That's something, all right. Makes me want to kiss you again. Even when I know what would follow. Especially then." He skimmed his thumb across her lips, and Brin felt them tingle.

She nodded, turning her face toward his hand so she could kiss his palm. He moved it to his mouth and pretended to transfer the kiss to his lips.

"As close as I get right now," he murmured, lowering his hand to his lap. "And enough to keep me waiting forever. I'm so glad the dragon hatched for you and not Rintog or one of those others. I was nervous that might happen. Then I would have had even more to worry about. They were persistent, now weren't they?"

"Yes, indeed," Brin agreed with a rueful laugh. "That would have added an interesting angle to our already confusing dynamic."

"So how do we act now, Brin? Like none of this ever happened?"

"I don't know," Brin admitted. "That doesn't seem very fair to you. It's easy to think that I could go around holding your hand and giving you hugs when we're alone out here. But I can already see myself digging in my heels and pulling back when everyone else saw that and started their excited whispering and planning. 'Brom and Brin are an item now. When will the wedding happen? Isn't it so sweet? All of these Dragon Riders' children are growing up and becoming childhood sweethearts.' I'm sorry, Brom. It's so ridiculous. I need to grow up and mature a little bit before I deserve you. You're only a few months over a year older than I am, but you seem at least ten years wiser and more mature. Would you hate me if I asked for things to stay pretty much the same for now?"

"Never, Brin," Brom vowed. "I'll never hate you. Things can stay the same. In my heart I'll never forget the 'crazy about Brom' part of you that you just introduced. I'll encourage her every time I look at you, which will be more often now. And when I do, remember what I'm telling her. 'I love you, beautiful. I'll wait for you. I'll fight for you.' And when we fight, I'm not just doing it to learn how to one day defeat you and be worthy of consideration as a romantic interest, but also so I can touch you and smell you and feel your hair." He reached up the same hand and swept a portion of her hair through his fingers, pulling it over her shoulder as he moved his hand back toward himself.

"Fair enough, or did I say too much?" he apprehensively finished.

"Fair enough. Thanks for being patient with me."

Brom leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "You're worth it," he whispered with his lips against her skin. Then he pulled back and gracefully stood. "Until next time," he said with a grin as he turned and strolled away.

"Bye," Brin murmured, knowing he would hear. When she could no longer see Brom, she pulled her knees up to her chest, resting her chin on them and returning her gaze to the lake. She barely noticed Sunburst reluctantly make her way back over after the unwelcome interruption of her nap on Talon's back and felt more peaceful than she had in over three months.

-:-:-:-


	23. Keeta

**Dwarf Choosing Ceremony**

 **23\. Keeta**

Keeta sat alone in the dragonhold above the Star Rose capping Tronjheim's central chamber. Her dragon, Lightning, sat in front of her to block the wide, open entrance to her personal cave, though Keeta knew few people would be able to follow or find her up here. It was a long ways up for anyone without a dragon.

The Dwarf Choosing Ceremony that had commenced right after her and Brin's seventeenth birthdays had now been running for over six weeks. There were just as many dwarven youth as Urgralgra youth. Since the Urgal King Kulkarvek had been killed seventeen years before, an era of peace and prosperity the likes of which Alagaёsia had never known—not even in the former glory days of the ancient Dragon Riders—blanketed the land. In those days, cooperation and goodwill between _all_ of the races had certainly never been as strong as it was now. And one of the natural consequences of such good times, it seemed, was an influx of happily married couples and healthy babies soon to join them.

Though this particular favor had been slower to grace the elves, all of the other races—which were more fruitful to begin with—had seen a steady increase in numbers of young people. And what it came down to for Keeta right then was that she was exhausted because of how many young dwarves had to take their turn with the dragon egg intended to hatch at that Ceremony.

Out of necessity, they had adapted the same pattern used in the Urgal Ceremony of reducing the time with the egg to a scant three hours per candidate. But even then, there were hundreds of young dwarves present and over the course of the last six weeks, they hadn't even made it through the youth in their twenties. The age range still went down to thirteen, as it did with all of the races, but it also went much higher than twenty-three, which was the cutoff for humans and Urgals, since dwarves naturally had longer lives than those other two races. Consequently, there were actually _more_ young dwarves to see the egg than at any of the other Ceremonies. And while thirteen-year-old dwarves were seen as not much more than babies by the rest of the race, even those this young were still included, since Keeta herself had been that age when Lightning had hatched for her.

The older dwarven Dragon Riders—Keeta's father Knilf included—were involved in overseeing the ceremony, knowing it was far too much for a single Rider to manage each and every day. The Ceremonies had become progressively more orderly and business-like as the years passed and more young people reached the age of eligibility. In the earlier years—right after Eragon had left Alagaёsia—the Ceremonies were new and disorganized. The guardian Riders at those Ceremonies often just lined the candidates up and went along the line with no pattern to guide them.

Yet the dragons in those eggs had awaited hatching for over a hundred years and had been determined to quickly find their Riders. And the numbers of youth then had not been as great. Each attendee at a Ceremony had enjoyed a whole day, which really amounted to about eight hours, with the dragon egg. Now nearly twenty years later, such measures seemed a luxurious impracticality.

The dilemma presented by the length of the Rider Choosing Ceremonies was the impetus for many serious discussion among the Dragon Riders. Last year's Urgal Ceremony and the short Camp after had lasted three months, which was simply too long. Parents and families needed these youth at home to help with younger siblings, crops, fields, and other livelihoods. And such a time away cut into many of the young people's schooling. Many were of the age to marry, have families of their own, and start their own occupations. Granted, the Ceremonies seemed to serve as a natural meeting place for many young couples, but that was hardly substantial enough reason to allow them to continue so long.

Sometimes the current Dragon Riders considered whether they ought to narrow the age range. But since dragons had hatched for many of the most senior Dragon Riders' children at the tender age of thirteen, they didn't want to raise the age and make it seem like their children received special privileges. The more weighty conversations consisted of whether they ought to consider gradually limiting the number of new Riders in their ranks until they eventually stopped being chosen, thus phasing out the Choosing Ceremonies altogether.

One of the current problems was feelings of disappointment and resentment when such a large crowd gathered for such a length of time only to have _one_ from among them chosen as the new Dragon Rider. But the Youth Camp last year after the Urgal Ceremony had worked wonders in increasing understanding and kind feelings toward the younger generation of Dragon Riders, of whom so many were children of the older generation.

But if the solution was to simply stop increasing their numbers or holding the Ceremonies at all, the flip side was the worry that the peoples of Alagaёsia would experience even deeper feelings of resentment that the Dragon Riders thought themselves too good for additional numbers.

The way the more senior Riders—Eragon, Arya, Murtagh, Varhog, Keeta's father, Willow, Hanin, and Grintuk—saw it, the more Dragon Riders there were, the greater the likelihood of having a bad apple, so to speak. With now over thirty Dragon Riders who were all in complete support of the measures currently in place on the Isle of the Eldunarí, there seemed no threat to Alagaёsia that the Dragon Riders wouldn't be able to overcome it. But if hundreds more joined their ranks and another Rider War broke out, that was a different story. As far as they could see, the greatest threat to the might of the Dragon Riders was treachery within their own ranks, just as Galbatorix's betrayal had led to their downfall in ancient times.

What it all amounted to, at least for the time being, was just so much talk. The dragons seemed indifferent for the most part. Their race was strong again and not in danger, isolated as it was from the mainland of Alagaёsia. Either way, the bonded dragons would most likely support the decision the Dragon Riders came to.

Keeta felt an unsettling worry about the whole matter, which stemmed from the fact that hers and Brin's dreams with Angela were different this year. Keeta's dream on her birthday several weeks prior was very similar to all of the rest, at least in the last few years. But there was a significant—and very disquieting—variation.

 _Prepare the ship, Keeta,_ Angela had said, _for a long and arduous journey. Plan for every eventuality. You will need supplies of every kind—food, clothing, bedding, money, weapons, games, tools. Everything. Consult with everyone to make sure they have what they need to fulfill their specialties. Plan for nine people._

 _Nine?_ Keeta asked herself again. Why, _Angela?_ She had also asked this in the dream, but Angela never answered, just repeated her words of counsel and left. It was the first time Keeta had received such a specific number, and it upset her greatly. There were ten who always saw Angela. Where would the tenth be? _Who_ would it be? Additionally, Angela's urgency this time was so much greater.

More troubling than that, however, was Brin's dream less than a week later. All Angela had said was, _Be ready, Brin. The time is near at hand._

When Brin had shared this with Keeta, Keeta had in turn shared the disturbing number. Brin's dream added considerably to Keeta's sense that something big— _the_ big thing they were being prepared for—was just around the corner. But neither girl had yet divulged the information to their eight friends, since the Ceremony had started right after and they'd had little opportunity to all gather together.

But Keeta suddenly felt they must. This impression was confirmed when, right then, Brin peeked her head around Lightning. "Keeta? You all right? I called from down there, but you didn't answer. I could sense you up here."

"Brin, we need to talk to the others," Keeta urgently said. "About our dreams. In the past few months, most of the others have had their birthdays. We need to find out if anything felt different. And if anyone got the same warning you did. I don't have another shift with the egg until tomorrow. Let's call everyone together right now."


	24. Troubles in Tronjheim

**24\. Troubles in Tronjheim**

Keeta used her mind to send a message requesting the impromptu meeting. When their other eight friends arrived in the comfortable dragonhold above Isidar Mithrim, Keeta began without ado, "Brin and I want to talk to you about our birthday dreams. Something was different about mine this year. And Brin's was completely different."

She briefly relayed both dreams and finished by asking, "How about you others? Brom, Var, Will, Lena? Ajh? Hanna? Anything different for any of you?"

"Something similar," Lena said. "Angela seemed to be telling me, 'You have done well but don't get complacent. Keep your mind sharp.' She did seem more anxious but never came right out and said, 'Be ready.'"

The others nodded their agreement. Brom added, "She told me I should expect a special gift next year. She has never said that before, but I have no idea what she meant."

"Why do you think she said, 'Plan for nine'?" Nefin quietly asked.

Keeta quickly glanced over at him. "It seems pretty clear that one of us won't be there," she replied. "But I have no idea who or why. It has me pretty worried." She noticed Brom, Var, and Will each glance at Brin, Zadí, and Lena, respectively. But Nefin looked away from her to his sister Hanna. Keeta was too practical to feel any pang. Nefin was an elf, and what he had done was only logical. Worry about the ones you love. _And I'm not one of them,_ Keeta firmly reminded herself.

Lena spoke up again. "There is something I've been wanting to talk with you all about anyway," she began. "Now seems as good a time as any. My father tells me of all the discussions the Riders have about possibly not adding anymore Riders in the near future. I know you are all a part of these conversations. How do you feel about this?"

"Most of us feel the same," Will answered. "And our feelings are mixed. We can see the sense in such a plan and also how it might backfire if everyone else thought it was unfair. Most of the people in Alagaёsia would probably be opposed to the notion. Might think we're plotting something. Though only one new person from each race gets chosen every four or so years, they still anticipate it like almost nothing else."

Var took up, "But the chances that a Rider might be chosen who would eventually turn against the rest only increase as our numbers do. Even now it's impossible to ensure that all of the Dragon Riders will always remain perfectly happy with the ways things are."

"Has anyone ever wondered what it would be like if there _were_ no Dragon Riders?" Brom asked, quietly and seriously.

"I have," Lena said when all of the others shook their heads. "The problems that led me to that line of thinking were simple, and it's also understandable since my mother is the high queen. The Dragon Riders seem to have many unnatural—unfair, even—abilities. Great strength, which makes them incredible warriors. Magical abilities when they otherwise had none. Except for the elves, of course, and a small minority of members of the other races. Telepathic communication. Things of that nature that the general population has no hope of competing with or defending themselves against, if one of you decided to go Galbatorix on us." She smiled as Will grinned and put his arm around her.

Then Lena continued, "But as I kept thinking about it, I realized that as long as there are dragons and magic in Alagaёsia, we _need_ the Dragon Riders. Especially now that every race is included in the pact. They are the link between dragons, magic, and the non-magic population. And they are an important part of interracial peace. As long as they adhere to the tenets of your brotherhood, they keep things from getting out of hand where the magical segment of society is concerned. And they keep the dragons from overrunning the land with respect to property and resources."

"But what, Lena?" Will prompted, apparently knowing Lena had more to say.

Lena smiled at him again, and now Keeta felt the sad ache. To her, the smile said, _I love you, Will. You're my best friend and I would rather be here with your arm around me than anywhere else._ Will seemed of the same mind as he leaned forward to kiss her nose.

Keeta struggled to focus as Lena said, "I don't think the real problem is whether there are more Dragon Riders in the future, nor is it even a question of Dragon Riders or not. If what Var suggested—that a Dragon Rider turned against the rest, like with Galbatorix—happened, he or she would never be able to rise against all the others and really triumph, not even with a following. The only way Galbatorix did was—"

"With the Eldunarí," Brom finished.

"Exactly," Lena agreed. "And they seem to be the real crux of the issue in my mind. My father and I have discussed this extensively. He knows better than anyone what the might of the Eldunarí can do to unfairly augment someone's power and give them the ability to mistreat people. Since I have never become a Dragon Rider, I feel like my contribution to this group of ten has something to do with figuring out a way to remedy that problem. The Eldunarí _seem_ safe where they are, but what if they really aren't? The worst tyrants in recent memory have only been what they were because someone coercively _borrowed_ the strength of dragons who no longer had their bodies. And that very fact—that they no longer had their bodies—was the reason they were victimized in the first place. No one in their right mind would attempt to get a live dragon in full possession of its body to do something it didn't want to do. And dragons seem to have better natures, generally speaking, than humans, elves, Urgals, or dwarves. Maybe not so much the elves, who live in such constant consideration of one another. But the war between the elves and dragons is what started the whole Dragon Rider thing in the first place, since both races were powerful enough to do real damage to the other. And it is further proof of how necessary Dragon Riders are in our world, since the first Eragon and his dragon Bid'Daum played the vital role of mediating between the races. What I was getting at, though, is that dragons usually don't intentionally harm _each other_ , as amoral members of other races do. And while wild dragons may not necessarily feel the same fondness for the smaller races of Alagaёsia that the bonded dragons do, they still resent and resist the improper usage of the Eldunarí's strength."

Lena turned to look at Will in indulgent exasperation. He had been idly playing with her hair for the entirety of her long speech with an expression of deepening affection and amusement on his features. "Did you hear a word I just said?" she demanded.

"Hmmm?" Will said with exaggerated absentmindedness. "What, dear?" He slowly moved his eyes to Lena's face, blinking stupidly. "Did you say something?"

Lena giggled and nudged her shoulder into his chest. Will chuckled and put his other arm around her so he could squeeze her against him. "I heard every word, honey," he said against her hair. "In all of your deep and thoughtful meditation, have you yet come up with any possible solutions for how we can protect the Eldunarí, thereby ensuring that another scoundrel like Galbatorix never attempts to force them into servitude?"

Lena approvingly raised her eyebrows. "Well done, love. And no, I haven't yet. I probably have a greater than average understanding of magic and the magic of the dragons, but that knowledge hasn't yet led me to uncover this elusive answer. But I do have a favor to ask. I'm not as often on the Isle as many of the rest of you. Will you please help the elves safeguard the Eldunarí? And if this big _thing_ we're being prepared for requires us to leave the Isle—as the twins' ship and Keeta's most recent dream seem to suggest—promise not to bring any of the Eldunarí along, no matter how dire the circumstances. If they fell into the wrong hands, it would only mean trouble."

"Promise," Will murmured with his face still pressed to her hair. The others all made some sign of their agreement.

"When are y'all just gonna get married?" Ajh asked in a soft drawl they all knew was an imitation of his favorite royal chef in Ilirea.

Lena shrugged and shifted so she could gaze adoringly up at Will. "Just waiting for the question," she playfully said.

"It's coming," Will vowed, this time kissing her forehead.

Keeta hated to change the subject and call attention back to herself—heavens knew she'd had _more_ than enough notice in the past six weeks to last for the next decade—but she quietly cleared her throat and said, "While we're gathered, is there anything we need to discuss for the Camp, whenever it begins?"

"Remember to lay down the guidelines for the questions," Brom said. Keeta saw him glance at Brin with the look Brin had told her about, the one that communicated to the 'crazy about Brom' part of her. Keeta was amused by her best friend's reaction. Brin smiled coyly at Brom and maintained eye contact with him, as if allowing that part of her to bask in his affection and show him how sweet she thought it was. Now that they were seventeen, it seemed to Keeta that Brin's reluctance to return Brom's feelings was getting weaker and weaker by the day.

Nefin spoke up again, and Keeta turned to him with her small smile still on her face. Her heart performed its familiar nervous patter when he uncharacteristically smiled in return. "What will we do about the flying days? Will we hold them outside of Tronjheim under Farthen Dûr? Or have everyone troop all the way out of the mountain?"

"I don't think that would be realistic," Keeta said. "It would be such a long walk at the beginning and end of each day, and we'll probably need to expect it to span several days like last year. I'm fine with holding them out under the mountain. There's plenty of room. We would never even get close to the top."

"Are the rest of the Dragon Riders here planning on helping again?" Nefin asked.

"As far as I know," Keeta answered. "I'm actually curious to see how many of the dwarves _want_ to have a ride. Most of them feel much more comfortable with both of their feet planted firmly on solid stone."

She smiled cheerfully and was surprised once more that Nefin returned the smile. Before she could begin to dwell on how striking his pale blue eyes were and what an amazing contrast they provided to his tan skin and black hair, she shifted her eyes away from his face with some effort and glanced around at the others. "Anything else? I suppose the Ceremony might drag on for another long while. If a thirteen-year-old gets chosen, we'll be here until the end of the winter. Is everyone enjoying themselves?"

Ajh said, "I never knew there were so many ways to cook with mushrooms." Everyone laughed. "But I'm getting tired of them. I wish there were fresh greens down here."

"The library is fascinating," Hanna contributed. "I've spent a great deal of time there. They even have plenty of cookbooks, Ajh. If you run out of new and creative ways to incorporate mushrooms into edible dishes, I could show you the section. You might get some ideas."

"I'd luhv it, sugar," Ajh drawled again. Hanna giggled, blushing slightly.

"The training grounds are interesting," Nefin said. "I'm getting plenty of practice on the shooting range. But it's even more fun to track through the tunnels with the Erisdar black. I just have to run through some of them in a crouch so I don't bash my forehead open."

Keeta laughed with the others. "What are you tracking?" she curiously asked.

"Your father told me about these little creatures who are blind in the light but can see in the dark. In the areas of Tronjheim that aren't lined with stone, the little fellows burrow into the ground and live there. But if you can catch one while it's up and release it into a tunnel, it will run straight through and try to find a soft spot of ground to dig in. They're as silent as a hawk in the sky. No tracks to follow on the stone. It has been a good challenge."

Keeta said a word in Dwarvish, the name for the small animal Nefin was describing.

"That's right," he agreed, trying to imitate her. "But I have a hard time saying it. Haven't practiced Dwarvish as much as I ought to."

"It's just an obscure creature," Keeta dismissed. "Not a word often used in conversational Dwarvish. You'll do fine in the question and answer session." As an afterthought, she added, "Unless you try to tell them all about what you just told us." She laughed, and Nefin joined in with the others.

"Have you gotten lost in the tunnels?" Keeta then wondered. "I would imagine they run far and fast, but there's never a soft spot of ground for them to escape into, so they'd just have to keep going."

"Yes," Nefin said with a rueful smile. Ah, he was so handsome! Keeta tried to keep an expression of neutral interest on her face as he kept speaking. "I have. And once I have caught my prey so I can return the poor, frightened creature to its safe home in the earth, I had to follow my own trail back out. But it's good to know how to follow a back trail too, so it was just more practice."

Keeta nodded slowly and suddenly realized that Brin was grinning at her. Keeta blinked her eyes to make herself snap out of the dazed, adoring stupor she had fallen into while listening to Nefin. "That's _does_ sound fun," she sincerely commented, because it actually really did sound fun to her. The others were nodding their agreement. She knew Nefin could see in very little light with his keen elven eyes, but in the pitch black darkness of the tunnels under the mountain, she was impressed indeed that he could follow the trail and find his way back.

"You should come with me some time," Nefin casually invited.

Keeta glanced to either side of herself in surprise. "Me?" she incredulously said. "Stop teasing, Nefin. You know I would only slow you down. But at least I wouldn't have to worry about bashing my head. And I might do a fairly decent job of counting the turns and remembering my way back out. Not that you really need that."

Nefin laughed. "True."

Keeta quickly added, "But if you want to teach me something, I'd actually really like to learn more about archery. Then I would be more useful in a fight."

"You're amazing with your axe, Keeta," Nefin complimented.

"But I'm so small," she countered. "In close range fighting with big people, that's a distinct disadvantage."

"Unless you just chop off their legs," Nefin pointed out.

Keeta shuddered, muttering, "That's awful." Then she continued, "And if I throw my axe from a distance, I have to go retrieve it. At least with a bow and several arrows, I could be more helpful."

"Are you expecting to have to fight a large number of people?" Nefin asked.

Keeta shrugged. "I don't know. Best be prepared, right?"

"I suppose," Nefin allowed.

Keeta felt the weight of Brin's meaningful gaze. She was grateful when someone else interrupted the unusually long conversation between her and Nefin, but also a little disappointed. In more recent years, when he seemed to suspect that she was beginning to fancy him, Nefin rarely said much to her, probably so as not to encourage her. Keeta missed the easy friendship of their earlier adolescence. And practical realist though she was, Keeta still found herself liking him more and more. He was quiet and reserved, like many elves, but also cheerful and fun at other times, though the term capricious didn't quite describe him. He was definitely steadier than some of the elves they had encountered in Ellesméra a couple years ago. And he was always kind and courteous; a very respectful, responsible oldest son; and a loving, devoted older brother.

As absorbed as she was in her thoughts, Keeta barely realized that someone else had begun speaking.

"Hanna," Var said. "Have you seen any books in the library about ships?"

"Oh yes!" Hanna exclaimed. "Hundreds. There are hundreds of thousands of books and scrolls in there. Your father is a frequent companion." She smiled sweetly.

"I'm not surprised," Var said with a laugh. "I'm sure he takes some of the little ones in there and reads all sorts of things to them. That has always been one of our favorite things to do with father, even now."

"That's exactly right," Hanna confirmed. "I'll find myself gravitating toward them too. He is a very captivating story teller. And always so gentle with the children. I love how good all our fathers are. We are fortunate indeed. Some of the youth at these Ceremonies seem envious when they see how our fathers are different from theirs."

"I know what you mean," Zadí said. "It's surprising to see the way some of them treat one another. Mean words, rough hands. Behavior they only could have learned from being treated in such a way themselves. It makes me sad but also glad we have the chance to interact with them and show them an alternative. And very grateful that our fathers are so kind and gentle. It would be terrifying to have a father who hit or shouted at me."

Hanna nodded.

"Should we be making our way down for dinner?" Ajh suggested. "Mushroom soup, anyone? And mushroom muffins. And mushroom pie. And mushroom slime."

"Stop it, Ajh," Lena protested with a disgusted laugh. "Now I won't be able to eat. It's hard to get full on mushroom entries when we don't often eat meat. But some of your stuff has actually been pretty good."

"Why thank ya, darlin'," Ajh said with an exaggerated bow as he stood. "Mah pleasuh." Ajh extended his hand down to his sister, and she accepted it so he could pull her up.

"Thank you, kind sir," Lena formally said, executing a deep curtsy. "Another reason I'm glad our fathers are the way they are is because our brothers learn from them too. And our beaus," she added with a grin at Will. "We girls are only that much luckier to be surrounded by such polite gentlemen all the time. Let's not forget it." She smiled up at her younger brother, who was taller than she by several inches, and he put his arm around her.

Will took Lena's hand on her other side. "It's easier to be gentlemen with such charming ladies around who allow us to serve them. Nothing makes me happier."

"You're sweet," Lena murmured, turning her smile toward him. "And I love you."

Will nodded and led the three of them toward the entrance to Keeta's cave. The others all arose and began to follow.

But Brin stayed where she was, and Keeta was grateful. Before the meeting, Brin had showed up for some reason, and now Keeta wanted to talk to her even more after all that had just happened with Nefin.

When the others had gone, Keeta said, "Sorry to interrupt you, my friend." They both giggled. "What were you going to say?"

"I actually only came to see how you were doing," Brin replied. "How you're holding up at the Ceremony. It's a lot of responsibility. I'm glad I wasn't already a Dragon Rider last year. And _now_ I'm even _more_ curious as to how you're doing." She winked.

Keeta smiled. She suddenly realized that if Nefin was still in the dragonhold, he would most likely be able to hear them. Rather than check with her mind, she simply cast a quick spell to keep anyone from overhearing them.

"I'm doing fine with the Ceremony. But it really could drag on for many more months. It's getting ridiculous how long they are. I think our parents are right that we need to do something about that. Maybe we just need to hold the Youth Camp at the beginning so the youth can begin traveling home in groups after their turn, like they once did. It also might help if we had them take their turns according to age and clan, so they could travel back in the same group they came with. Or maybe we could hold camps throughout. Every week that goes by where the egg hasn't hatched, we could meet with the youth who have already had their turn, then they could head home. That would also give them more time to interact individually with us."

"Those are some really good ideas, Keeta," Brin seriously said. "In fact, we could do that right away. Starting tomorrow, or at least this week, we could do a camp with the youth who have already had their turn. Then they could all return home. Instead of simply going through the rest by age, we could divide them by clan, then continue on from oldest to youngest. Since the very oldest ones have gone already, having them travel back in smaller groups would be safer than doing the same for the youngest. And we should start with the clan primarily responsible for farming, since they will be missed the most with the harvest closing in."

"Dûrgrimst Feldûnost," Keeta murmured. Slightly louder, she said, "Yes, Brin. We need to meet with the dwarven Riders this evening. The shifts for today end right in time for dinner. It also might help to simply start them earlier in the year. Rather than midsummer, start them in early summer. And the Games, which only last a couple of weeks, could be moved to the spring, after the planting but before anything has really started growing."

Brin nodded. "But I want to know what was going on with Nefin!" she eagerly exclaimed. "He invited you to go tracking with him through dark and mysterious tunnels!"

Keeta grinned. "No need to be melodramatic," she patiently said. "I have no idea what he meant by it. Maybe our teasing prediction of last year has come true."

"The strapping dwarf lads _do_ seem quite smitten with you, my friend," Brin agreed. "And why wouldn't they? Nothing like fear of loss to make someone come to their senses."

"I doubt Nefin is afraid of losing me to anyone," Keeta said. " _I'm_ already so smitten with _him_ that the dwarf boys don't stand much of a chance."

"I feel more confident than ever before when I say that your future looks bright, Keeta."

"Why thank you, dear friend," Keeta teased. "I could say the same for you. Positively flirting with Brom these days, aren't you?"

Brin laughed. "I guess I am, huh? The 'crazy about Brom' part seems to be getting a stronger hold. It's like Lena said—they're always so polite and good. _All_ of them. Enough to make you a little crazy sometimes, but really so wonderful when you think about it. We should consider ourselves blessed. Not all males are like that."

Keeta shook her head. "No, they aren't. And even fewer can cook like Ajh. Shall we go down and try some of his mushroom slime? I'm sure even _that_ would be good if he made it."

Brin giggled. "Sounds good to me." They each hopped on their dragons, who had curled up next to one another as one would expect of friendly siblings, and flew down from the dragonhold above the star sapphire.


	25. Lessons

**25\. Lessons**

That very evening Keeta and Brin discussed their ideas for modifying the organization of the Ceremony and Youth Camp with their peers and parents, who fully supported their suggestions. After dinner, the Riders sent messengers to the various youth camps to spread word of the changes.

Starting immediately, youth from Dûrgrimst Feldûnost were next in line to have their turns with the dragon egg. And the Youth Camps would be held in phases after that. At the beginning of the following week, all of the hundred and seventy youth who had already met with the egg would participate in the first Camp before being invited to return home.

Then every two weeks, each subsequent group of sixty or so would be in another Youth Camp with the younger Dragon Riders until the egg finally hatched.

This new change of plans kept _all_ of the young Dragon Riders far busier than before, but everyone—especially King Orik—relaxed a little that the large group of dwarven youth would disperse in smaller batches set for home every fortnight.

With a smaller group of young people, the first Camp was easier than the Urgal Camp had been. The question and answer panel didn't take as long, especially since Keeta issued guidelines about what sorts of questions they would and wouldn't answer. They were able to start the fighting demonstration and lessons the same day and finished that evening by dinner.

With so many dragons able to give rides, the flying with the dragons went faster, and that activity also finished in one day. So only a few days later, close to two hundred of the dwarven youth packed up and began their journey home.

-:-:-

Over the following two weeks, when Keeta wasn't fulfilling one of her shifts with the dragon egg, Nefin reminded her of his promise to begin teaching her archery.

So Keeta accompanied him to the shooting range one morning. As they were walking, Nefin shortening his normally long stride to match hers, Keeta asked, "How will we begin? With a demonstration?"

Nefin looked over and down at her and smiled. "I don't think that would be productive, Keeta. You have seen me shoot before. You know what it looks like. I have learned all of the basics and been practicing for years. And my elven instincts and speed allow me to shoot in ways human, dwarven, and Urgal archers would never be able to reproduce. We'll start by finding you the right size bow. That's the most important first step. Mine would be far too big for you. It's good we're having these lessons here in Tronjheim rather than Ellesméra, where it would be more difficult to find the right size for you."

"We would have to look at the children's bows," Keeta said with a laugh, and Nefin laughed too. "And even then, they'd probably still be too big. All right, Nefin. Fit me with the right size bow." They arrived in the section of the armory where all of the archery equipment was stored.

"First we need to determine your draw length," Nefin said. "And it's a simple matter. I just need to measure your arm span from fingertip to fingertip and divide that length in half. Hold your arms straight out to your sides at shoulder height. Just stand normally, shoulders relaxed, chest down, palms forward."

Keeta did as he asked, and Nefin knelt so he wouldn't be towering so high above her. He made a few minor adjustments by pressing lightly on her shoulders and turning her wrists. She tried not to stare at him, but he was right in front of her and there was really nowhere else to look unless she deliberately turned her head to the side, which she worried might alter the measurement. He smiled at her, and Keeta's heart pounded a little faster. Nefin's smile widened, and Keeta was mortified to realize that he probably heard it. Heat flooded her cheeks.

Maybe this wasn't the greatest idea. Keeta was happy Nefin had offered to teach her and that it meant she would get to spend some time with him, but she just liked him too much. And there was no way she would be able to hide that if they were together for a certain length of time every day.

Keeta came back to the present when Nefin held a measuring tape across her body from one fingertip to the other. It passed right over her bosom. He stared at it thoughtfully for a moment then flushed when he realized what he was doing. Keeta blushed too but also laughed at Nefin, which helped diffuse their awkwardness some.

"Maybe I should measure from behind," he quietly suggested. "I'm not sure if those . . . that . . . your chest will affect the length much, but just to be sure."

Keeta nodded silently, not trusting herself to speak. She was sure her voice would break or some other embarrassing thing would happen. Nefin fluidly rose and gracefully moved around her. Keeta tried not to admire it and failed. Once he was behind her, she forced herself to stay still and breathed as deeply as she could without being too obvious.

 _Don't be a fool, Keeta! Just act normally, like his friend, or he might not want to keep teaching you._

Nefin quickly made the measurement and calculated Keeta's draw length. "Before we can find you the right bow, we need to determine your eye dominance. Are you right or left-handed?"

"Right," Keeta said.

"Then it will be easiest for you if your right eye is also dominant. Let's find out." Nefin backed up about ten paces, instructing Keeta to hold her arms straight up in front of her face and form a triangle by placing the tips of her thumbs and first fingers together at an angle. He demonstrated for her so she knew what he meant. Once she had, Nefin said, "Now look through the triangle and close your left eye. Did the image seem to change?"

"No," Keeta said.

"Close your right eye and look with your left. How about now?"

"Yes," Keeta said. "The image seemed to shift."

"Good," Nefin said, approaching her again. "Your right eye is dominant. And since you're also right-handed, we'll select a right hand bow. To aim, you want your dominant eye closest to the bow string and arrow shaft. If your left eye was dominant, we would chose a left hand bow and I would teach you how to shoot with your left hand. For beginners, it's not that hard to learn either way, though it might feel more awkward at first to be using your less dominant hand. But when beginners have cross dominance and learn to shoot with their dominant hand, relearning in favor of their dominant eye can be more difficult." He paused and apologetically looked at her. "Am I confusing you?"

"Nope," Keeta cheerfully said. "You make it look so effortless when you shoot. I would never have guessed there were so many factors to consider."

"I've been practicing a long time, Keeta," Nefin said. "I also had to go through all this when I started. And there is even more to consider. Like draw weight. If the string is too hard for you to pull, your form will suffer, you will be less effective, and you will tire very quickly. And it's dangerous because it's harder to control the arrow. Many over bowed beginners shoot arrows straight up. But even though you are small, you're also stronger than average for your size, so we will want to be careful about this. We'll probably start off with a lighter weight and add to it as you get more comfortable with the motions. The muscles used for shooting will get stronger with frequent practice, and that's also a good time to adjust your draw weight."

They tried out several bows until Nefin felt confident they had the best fit. Then he told her they would work on her stance next, since that was the first basic step in learning archery. "That's all we'll do the rest of today. If you have a sloppy stance, it affects everything else."

"But you can shoot while running and climbing and somersaulting," Keeta remarked.

Nefin smiled patiently and repeated, "Lots of practice. My first instructor made me stand in one place for my whole first year of lessons. There are so many things to take into consideration when you begin moving. Now even though my lower body might be doing all sorts of different things, whenever an arrow leaves my bow, it's with the same form as if I were standing still."

They arrived at the shooting range. "I'm going down there to move the target closer," Nefin said. He jogged downrange, easily lifted the nearest target, and carried it closer. Then he pulled a dark cloth out of the pack he had brought along and draped it over the target.

When he returned to Keeta, he explained, "I don't want you worrying about where the arrows land on the target. That's not the point of this first exercise. Once you know the proper stance, we'll shoot a few arrows. After every shot, I'll make sure your stance is still correct. We'll probably carry on like that until assuming the proper stance feels second nature to you. Then we'll move on to nocking the arrow."

He showed her the correct square stance, and Keeta once again tried not admire him and failed. He was so tall and strong, his posture was perfect, and he looked regal. He turned back to her and said, "Now your turn. Place your feet on either side of the line, left foot forward, right foot back. Just shoulder width apart. That's right. Now move your feet so they are parallel to the line. Good."

With every new instruction, Keeta tried to adjust herself to follow it and Nefin encouraged her each time. He next suggested she stand up straight and look over her left shoulder in the direction of the target. "You'll be holding your bow in your left hand and drawing with your right."

For the next few elements of the stance, Nefin knelt behind her and gently used his hands to emphasize what he meant. "You want your lower back flat," he said with his hand resting on hers, "so tuck or roll your hips forward. That's the idea, only not quite so much."

Nefin kept his left hand on her lower back and raised his right hand to her upper chest, resting it under her collarbone. "Lower your chest and ribs."

Keeta tried to do as he asked, but her focus was quickly slipping. Nefin was touching her! And he was so gentle. She was sure he could feel her heart hammering under his hand and was glad she was supposed to be looking away from him. He was close enough that his whole torso pressed against her.

"Good. That looks really good. Just relax your shoulders a little." He slid his right hand to her shoulder nearest him and lightly pressed down. "Perfect!" he approved. "Now don't move a muscle and load your bow so you can shoot." He laughed playfully, and Keeta nervously giggled along with him. "Only teasing, Keeta. You'll obviously have to move to nock the arrow. Just try to maintain the stance as you shoot."

Nefin had her shoot five arrows, reminding her of certain aspects of the proper square stance if she forgot them. He stayed kneeling behind her and lightly used his fingers if he seemed to think it would help.

After five more arrows, he asked, "Are your arms getting tired?"

"Nope. Doing fine. I might be a small dwarf girl, but I'm also a Dragon Rider."

So they kept going, but Nefin casually said, "A lot of these dwarf lads seem quite taken with you."

Keeta glanced back over her shoulder at him and _was_ surprised by how close he was. She blinked then quizzically arched one eyebrow. "Maybe," she evasively said. "I can't imagine why _you_ would notice such a thing. Or care."

Nefin smiled. His already impossibly handsome face became so much more so that Keeta stopped breathing. Then she quickly resumed. She faced back downrange before she could do anything even more ridiculous, trying to ensure that her stance was correct.

But apparently she didn't succeed, for Nefin once again placed his hands on the front and back of her waist and murmured, "Back flat."

Keeta stubbornly shot twenty more arrows, though her concentration slipped more every time. "I think that's enough for today," she said with forced calm when her thirtieth arrow flew completely over the target.

"Yes," Nefin agreed with an amused chuckle. "You did really well, Keeta." He used magic to retrieve all of the arrows and returned them to their quiver. "I think I might stay and practice for a while."

"Can I try to draw your bow?" Keeta curiously requested.

"I'm really strong," Nefin reluctantly said. "Elf, Dragon Rider. And I'm so much taller, you might not even be able to hold it properly. I think the bow is as tall as you."

Keeta forced herself to smile through the sting of his words. "No problem. I would just make even more of a fool of myself than I already have today. I'll take these back to the armory. Thanks for the lesson. Until next time, Nefin."

 _If there even_ is _a next_ time, she mentally added, lifting the bow and quiver of arrows as she turned to go. Keeta started walking away, blinking back the stupid tears that burned in her eyes.

But Nefin caught her before she had even taken five steps. He stopped in front of her, squatting down so he could look into her face. "Sorry, Keeta. I can tell what I said hurt you."

Keeta stared at the ground. "It's nothing, Nefin," she dismissed, sounding angry only because she was crying. "You're an elf and tall and amazing. And I never will be." She scrubbed her eyes with the back of her arm. "I feel like an idiot. Can I just go, please?"

Nefin gently hugged her. "But you're my friend, Keeta. And I don't want to hurt your feelings. Forgive me?"

Keeta nodded against his shoulder, barely able to appreciate that the boy she loved was giving her an embrace because of how humiliated she felt. The tears flowed harder. "Yes," she whispered. She pulled away and continued toward the armory, leaving Nefin behind and praying he wouldn't follow her again.


	26. Adventures in Archery

**26\. Adventures in Archery**

Keeta was grateful she had a shift with the dragon egg the next morning. And when the following shift began, she offered to take it as well. After lunch, she made Lightning fly her to the dragonhold and hid in her room again. She was painfully embarrassed by her behavior toward Nefin and dreaded meeting him again.

The Ceremony dragged on and on. Every two weeks, they held another Camp for the youth who had already had their turn with the egg so that group could return home. It worked out almost perfectly that each of the twelve dwarf clans with youth present at the Ceremony—for Dûrgrimst Az Sweldn rak Anhûin, the clan nearly wiped out by dragons, never sent youth representatives to the Dragon Rider Choosing Ceremonies—would finish their turn with the egg within that time frame. Then the Camp would be exclusively for their clan and they would go home. The dwarven Riders decided to give Dûrgrimst Ingeitum the last place in line, since Tronjheim was their home and the youth could stay with their families and continue their regular studies and duties while the Ceremony continued.

The young Dragon Riders also soon resumed their usual academics and training in between the Camps, so they wouldn't lose so much time while staying on until the dragon egg hatched. The library was an incredible resource, and they often engaged in their fighting lessons while large groups of dwarven youth looked on.

-:-:-

On the training grounds some weeks after her first lesson, Keeta once again encountered Nefin. He cautiously approached her, greeting, "Hi, Keeta."

Keeta looked up at him and smiled. "Hi, Nefin. The dwarves were watching you worshipfully during your shooting practice. Were you showing off?"

"Maybe," he said, his pale blue eyes dancing in amusement. "But not for them."

"Oh?" Keeta said. "Surely you don't mean to imply it was for me?"

"What if it was?"

"Well, I wasn't paying any attention," Keeta joked with a teasing laugh. "So you can just forget about me being impressed."

Nefin laughed too. "I'll just have to try harder next time. Do something you won't be able to resist watching."

"Don't overexert yourself, Nefin," Keeta muttered. "All you have to do to catch my eye is walk by." Though she said it under her breath, she knew Nefin still heard when he laughed, and she blushed.

"Can we continue your lessons, Keeta? You're a really good student."

"I suppose," Keeta said. "I'll try not to start blubbering this time."

"Well, I won't be rude and say something insensitive, so there won't be any reason too," Nefin promised.

Keeta rolled her eyes and shook her head but refrained from saying anything more.

So their lessons carried on. Nefin taught her what he referred to as the basics of archery in ten steps. He continued correcting her stance through all of the following steps, but the adjustments came less frequently as Keeta began to memorize the proper position her body should assume. They focused next on nocking the arrow and then on the proper set, which involved how she held the grip in her left hand and hooked her fingers around the bowstring in her right. Fourth came the correct setup, which Keeta learned meant how to raise and align the bow arm and position her shoulders, chest, and upper body with her draw arm back.

They met together every day, working around Keeta's shifts and the Youth Camps. Nefin very patiently explained and corrected throughout every lesson. He next showed her how to draw and load, anchor, transfer and hold, aim and expand, release, and follow through. What began as confusing, complicated processes became more and more natural as Keeta practiced.

Nefin often knelt behind her, holding his long arms around her to help Keeta with various aspects of the proper form and positioning. After nearly six weeks of their regular sessions, when Nefin was helping her with the difficult concept of transferring the effort of her draw from her arms and shoulders to her back, Keeta felt his face moving closer and closer to the back of her head until it felt like his nose was pressed into her hair.

Keeta had gotten better at controlling her unexpected and infuriating reactions to him. Her heart no longer pounded so loudly, nor did she often hold her breath anymore. Keeta knew Nefin could hear such things perfectly well with his keen elven ears. But this time, she couldn't help it. Her heart started hammering, and she attempted to diffuse the tension she felt by saying, "Did I forget to wash behind my ears or something and you just now noticed?"

Nefin laughed softly, and his breath tickled her neck. She shivered. "Always teasing, Keeta," he said with what sounded like affection in his voice. "No dirt behind your ears. You just have pretty hair. And it smells good."

Keeta raised her eyebrows. Was he complimenting her? That sounded like something Will would say to Lena. But Nefin couldn't possibly be coming to fancy her, could he? After all, she was simply too short for him, something she was painfully aware of every time he knelt down to reach her.

She playfully said, "I'll remember not to wash it before our next lesson so you can stay focused on your tutoring responsibilities."

"That might be a good idea." Keeta felt him move away then heard him mutter, "Now I'm thinking about you washing it." A little louder he said, "Shall we call it a day? You're doing amazingly, Keeta. I'm really proud of you."

Keeta continued facing away, trying desperately to rein in her careening emotions before speaking or looking at him. She decided not to read into anything he just said. Her clean smelling hair must have addled his brains.

"Thanks, Nefin," she finally answered. "You're a great teacher and the best archer I've ever seen. I'm lucky I get to learn from you."

"Want to try and draw my bow?" he offered.

Keeta decided she'd had enough time to get her emotions under control, so she turned to look at him with a cheerful smile on her face. "That's all right, Nefin. It's too tall for me. Like you, I guess."

"Do you really think that?"

"That your bow is too tall?" Keeta questioned, trying once again to keep her heart from beating out of her chest. "Yep, I sure do. It's _as_ tall as me."

"That's not what I meant," Nefin quietly clarified. "Do you think _I'm_ too tall for you?"

"Well, do _you_?" Keeta returned, unwilling to answer. She wished desperately that Nefin wouldn't act like her height was such a concern to him. If _he_ was ever willing to overlook it, she would in a heartbeat.

"I don't know," Nefin said, a crease appearing on his forehead as his eyebrows knit together. "It doesn't seem like it should matter. Does it?"

"I guess it depends," Keeta vaguely said.

"On what?" Nefin pressed.

"On what the people in question think."

"Well, that's why I asked. Do you think I'm too tall for you?"

Keeta sighed. How could she say this without coming right out and telling him she liked him? "I guess I have always felt like _you_ thought I was too short for you, Nefin. But it doesn't matter to me. If you could overlook our height difference, then . . ." She trailed off sadly, staring at the ground.

"Then what?" Nefin softly asked, lifting her chin with one hand so he could see her face.

"I'm really embarrassed to say this, Nefin," Keeta relented as a blush crept onto her cheeks, "but you seem to want to hear it. I would be thrilled. And if you didn't already know that, you're a fool. I've had a crush on you for years. And it only seemed to bother you whenever you suspected such a thing, so I just assumed it was because I'm a dwarf and so short. Or in some other way unworthy of what an amazing person you are." She tried to look back down when her eyes started stinging with tears, but he continued to hold her chin in his hand.

"I _have_ thought you were too short," Nefin ashamedly confessed. "But it was foolish, as you said. I think I'm starting to change my mind, Keeta. Would it be presumptuous to ask you to be patient with me while I sort out what I feel?"

Keeta only shook her head.

"Thank you. Would you like to continue tomorrow?"

"We have another Camp," Keeta reminded him. "Then it will finally be Ingeitum's turn. I can't believe how long the Ceremony has lasted."

"But we've had plenty to do to fill our time," Nefin said, standing and lifting her bow and arrows.

"Yes. I'm glad we resumed our studies and training." They began walking back to the armory. "Have you done anymore tracking?"

"Here and there," Nefin replied. "After the first dozen or so times, the novelty wore off and it wasn't as challenging."

Keeta didn't respond. She thought Nefin was amazing at everything he did and to say so might border too closely on infatuation for his tastes. When there was a chance he might be starting to return her feelings, she didn't want to do anything ridiculous that might make him change his mind.

She then broke the lengthening silence with, "How was your birthday last week? Does being eighteen feel any different?"

"Not really," Nefin said. "But my dream with Angela was like Brin's. She said, 'Be ready, Nefin. The time is near at hand.' And that was all."

Keeta clasped her hands to keep herself from wringing them. "That's also how Zadí's was a few months ago. It's getting closer. I'm so worried about the nine. Who won't be there? One of us ten must be in grave danger!"

They reached the armory. Nefin returned Keeta's practice bow and arrows to their place and knelt down in front of her. "Shh, Keeta," he soothed, circling his arms around her. "Everyone will be fine. We've all been prepared. And we're _all_ ready. There's no reason to fear when we're prepared."

"But one . . ." Keeta insisted. "What if someone dies, Nefin? All of you others are my best friends. I don't think I could bear it. But it feels like there's nothing I can do to change it! Angela told me to plan for nine!"

Nefin said nothing, only pulled her closer and began softly stroking her hair. Keeta tentatively wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her cheek against his strong chest. _This_ time she could appreciate that the boy she loved was hugging her, and it felt so amazing.

At length Nefin quietly said, "We'll look out for each other, Keeta. Between the ten of us, I don't think there's anything we can't overcome."

Keeta nodded.

"Can we try to be more cheerful again?" Nefin gently asked. "I hate seeing you sad."

Keeta bravely squared her shoulders and stood straight. The top of her head came up to just under his chin when he was on his knees. "Yes, let's me be more cheerful," she assented. Nefin stood, keeping one hand on her shoulder for a moment.

As they started walking back toward the inner part of the city, Nefin asked, "Are you excited to go back to Ellesméra in a few months? We finally get to have our weapons forged, now that most of us have probably finished growing."

"It will be neat. I'm still trying to picture what an axe with Lightning's coloring and pattern will look like. Will you have a sword forged?"

"I'm perfectly happy with my current Rider's sword. If Rhunön can fashion me a bow and arrows, somehow making them indestructible like the blades, I think I would prefer that. How do you think some silver and lavender arrows would look? Manly?"

"Oh yes," Keeta grandly agreed. "Very masculine, indeed. Arget wouldn't be offended to hear us joke about it, would he?" Arget was Nefin's male dragon, and his name meant silver in the ancient language, though Arget's coloring also consisted of lavender speckles.

"Of course not," Nefin assured, laughing. "He knows what a striking dragon he is."

"Like his Rider," Keeta muttered. Then she blushed, of course. "Sorry, Nefin. You would think that after all these years I would remember you can hear like a bat. Forget I said that."

"You think I'm striking?"

"Please!" Keeta cried. "Don't play dumb with me, Nefin!"

"No, really."

"I'm not giving you the satisfaction of hearing me say it, if that's what you're after, Nefin- _elda_ ," Keeta touchily replied.

Nefin chuckled. "Using honorifics now, are we? How would you feel if I told you I think you're beautiful? Keeta Svit-kona." He teasingly smiled down at her.

"Pfff," Keeta scoffed. "Svit-kona. I'm not a woman of great wisdom. And if you're not just teasing me, Nefin, then it would make my day. And the rest of my week. Actually, the rest of my year."

Nefin laughed again. "Not saying much, considering there are only a few weeks left in this year."

"That's _still_ a few weeks," Keeta pointed out. "Fine, Nefin. If you must know, you're impossibly handsome. It's unfair, really, that one boy can be so devastatingly beautiful. You have enough good looks that if you spread them out between about ten males, they would all still be well above average."

Nefin laughed skeptically. "Ha ha, Keeta. Good one."

Keeta looked up and rolled her eyes. "Makes no difference if you don't believe me. Doesn't change the truth."

He reached down and playfully mussed her hair. "I'm glad you're my friend, Keeta. It's fun spending time with you. You have a really good sense of humor."

Keeta lowered her eyes. "Thanks, Nefin," she uncertainly said, her heart pounding again. "I feel the same."

* * *

 **A/N:** Hope you guys are enjoying how I'm taking time at each of these Ceremonies to develop my ten heroes. It was fun to spend some time with Nefin and Keeta. Up until now, I always wondered what Keeta saw in him. But he demonstrates it here clearly enough.

At the end of an earlier chapter I asked if anyone had name ideas for the dragons. One faithful reader, fredo747, suggested I use the ancient or Dwarvish languages as inspiration, so I did. Nefin's dragon was the second dragon I named with this theme, though you won't meet the first for a couple more chapters. Thanks for the inspiration, my friend!

And on a slightly related note: the use of the ancient language was never a mesmerizing experience for me. It's admirable that Paolini went to the trouble of creating a different language, but it never amazed me in any other way. As is clear in my story, all of the different languages appear to my readers as English. But names, with a quick definition, seem an appropriate exception to that general opinion.

I don't have a clue about archery, but in order to be somewhat believable and intelligent-sounding on the subject, I found this website extremely helpful: www . learn-archery . com. For those of you who might happen to have personal experience with the sport, I hope I did a passable job of representing it for my purposes. I always envision Nefin like Orlando Bloom's portrayal of Legolas in the _Lord of the Rings_ movies, at least shooting-wise (he obviously looks different).


	27. New Dwarven Rider

**27\. New Dwarven Rider**

The following week, after the next Youth Camp was over and the young dwarves from Dûrgrimst Ingeitum were partially through their turn with the dragon egg, it finally hatched for an eighteen-year-old male named Gerik. Everyone had begun to worry the egg wouldn't hatch at all, just as it hadn't the year Brom, Var, and Will all became Dragon Riders within a few months of each other.

Gerik was a boy Keeta had known all her life. He was a year older, and every time her family came to visit Tronjheim, she saw Gerik. He had a younger sister just one year Keeta's junior, so they had often spent time together growing up.

Gerik—one of the many dwarf lads who had acted quite taken with Keeta, according to Nefin—had asked Keeta to be the Dragon Rider present for his few hours with the egg. When the egg began to jump in his lap, and the telltale shrill squealing indicated that the dragon had finally decided on her Rider, Keeta excitedly leaped up.

"It's hatching!" she cried. "Finally!" She laughed. "Do you want to send word for your family to come, Gerik?"

"I don't mind if it's just you and me, Keetie," Gerik said.

"Keetie?" she skeptically repeated. "No one has called me that in years!"

Gerik chuckled. "Does it bother you?"

"A little, I suppose," Keeta admitted. She wasn't as put off by the male attention she had received during the many months of the ceremony as Brin had been during the Urgal Ceremony, mostly because some of it had come from the only boy she even cared about. But Keeta thought another likely reason was that the dwarven males weren't nearly as bold and relentless. Nor did she have an ability that was as admired by the dwarven race as fighting was by the Urgralgra.

At any rate, Keeta had patiently and kindly endured the notice and regard they had shown her, knowing she would be gone again soon and they would just forget about her.

"Well, I won't call you it," Gerik promised. Several fissures split the egg in jagged lines, like ice cracking on the surface of a frozen pond in warming weather.

"Are you nervous?" Keeta asked.

"To be a Dragon Rider?" Gerik clarified.

"Yes, I guess. Or about leaving your family?"

"No," Gerik said. "I'm glad I'll get to see more of you, Keeta."

Keeta tried not to look disapproving. "I should probably warn you that I'm not exactly what I'd consider available, Gerik," she bluntly said.

"Do you have a beau?" Gerik wondered.

"Not really. Just someone I care for."

"And he doesn't feel the same?" Gerik indignantly said.

Keeta smiled at his reaction. "Not yet. Actually, I shouldn't say that. I don't know if he ever will. If he doesn't, maybe someday I'll give up and think about reevaluating things, but until then, don't get your hopes up."

"Fair enough," Gerik allowed. The shell between the fractures of the dragon egg began to tremble and fall away as the tiny creature within stirred and stretched.

"It hurts," Keeta warned, "when the dragon first touches you. Then you will immediately feel her mind linked with yours. It takes some getting used to. Your thoughts are never your own after that."

"I'm not sure about that," Gerik said with mock trepidation. Then he smiled. "Only joking. I'm sure it will be amazing. I'm excited to learn magic."

Keeta shrugged. "It's certainly nice at times. But being a Dragon Rider isn't all about power and strength. There is a lot of that, granted, but with those things comes even greater responsibility. We have a solemn obligation to look out for those less fortunate, weaker, or needier than we. I think the dragon chose well, Gerik. You'll be a good Rider."

"Thank you," Gerik sincerely said, looking away from his lap for a moment. But he quickly returned his eyes to the egg, for at that moment, the tiny face first became visible as the female dragon pushed her head through the broken fragments and stretched her thin neck up.

"Hello, precious," Gerik cooed in wonder. "Aren't you tiny?"

The small creature let out a quavering warble, and Gerik laughed. He reached his hand toward his dragon to stroke her neck, but she cocked her head to the side so it would intercept his palm. At the contact, Gerik exhaled sharply in surprise, glancing at Keeta.

"I didn't believe you," he muttered as the silver mark began to appear and spread on his palm. He shook his hand a few times.

"There you are," Gerik murmured, to his dragon, Keeta assumed. "How amazing." To Keeta he said, "It's crazy that a newborn of any species can be so intelligent and already have full command of verbal language."

Keeta nodded her agreement. "The dragons are amazing all right. That's a good way to put it."

The dragon shook her small body so the shell fell off around her. Then she craned her neck to lick off the membranous sac still clinging to her legs and back.

"She will be hungry and eat voraciously for the first several months," Keeta said. "I have a bit here, but she'll want more soon. It's just a little jerky. We all kept some in case the dragon hatched on our shift." She withdrew the small morsel of meat and extended it out to the dragon. "Here you go, sweetie," she crooned. "Nice to finally meet you." Keeta laughed as the dragon eagerly snapped up the thin strip of beef.

 _Thank you, Keeta,_ the small dragon said. _I have been anxious to meet my Rider. It has taken a while to make my way back to him._

"Yes, indeed," Keeta agreed. "The best ones are worth the wait," she added, which was a sentiment she often heard repeated among the senior Riders, though she gave no thought to how it might affect Gerik. She looked at him. "Shall we take her to get more food and spread the good news?"

"Sure. Will the last Camp start tomorrow, then?"

"Yes. We're all getting exhausted by how long this Ceremony took. In only a month or so, most of us younger Riders will be traveling to Ellesméra to have our Riders' weapons forged by the famed elf smith there. I suppose you will also come. You have most likely reached your adult size now. That's what we've been waiting for. Rhunön told us to come back in a few years when we had grown more, since we were there two and a half years ago."

"That will be incredible," Gerik said. "How will I get there?"

"Flying with one of the rest of us," Keeta said. "A one-year-old dragon can easily fly with a couple of people on their back. Lightning is already four, and dwarves are so much smaller than the other races. You could fly with me, I guess."

"I'd like that. Can I also fly with you for the demonstrations in a day or so?"

"Of course. But you should also have a turn with Blaze. He's so huge now. Flying with a bigger dragon like that is incomparable."

"That would be great!" Gerik exclaimed. "Your father's dragon will probably always be the most famous dragon among the dwarves. Dragon of the first dwarf Rider."

Keeta nodded. She was glad the dwarves were slightly less reverential about the Dragon Rider business than the elves. They had treated her respectfully, of course, but not with the same degree of deference that Nefin, Hanna, Brom, and Zadí had been shown in Ellesméra.

She smiled cheerfully at Gerik, who carefully cradled his new dragon in his arms. "Shall we?"

He nodded, and they were off in search of some food.

-:-:-

The question and answer panel the following morning went quickly indeed. The youth in Dûrgrimst Ingeitum had been living with the young Dragon Riders in their midst for over six months, so they'd had ample opportunity to become not only acquaintances but good friends.

They had seen the Riders' way of life modeled in Tronjheim for the same length of time, so most of the questions were actually directed at Gerik, asking what it was like when the dragon hatched, how it felt when she first touched him, what the bond was like, and so forth. They all wanted a chance to meet the new hatchling and pet her, which both Gerik and the dragon herself allowed. Gerik seemed a little uncertain of what to make of the extra attention, and Keeta joked that he'd better start getting used to it.

The fighting demonstration was also briefer, since the five or so dozen youth of Tronjheim's principal clan had also been present at many of the Dragon Riders' fighting lessons and practice sessions. The young Dragon Riders thought it would be interesting to reverse roles and have the dwarves teach them a thing or two about axe fighting and throwing, since Keeta was really the only one of them who had mastered the skill.

The dwarven youth proudly did, and the young Dragon Riders actually _did_ learn a thing or two. It wasn't really any surprise to Nefin or Keeta—who had trained together for years on the Isle—that Keeta was _still_ a better throw than he. But it obviously wasn't something she felt the need to boast about. After all, Nefin was a _far_ better archer than Keeta ever would be. Her quick grin at him after her victorious throw was all the more reaction she had on the subject.

-:-:-:-


	28. Flying

**28\. Flying**

The next morning, all of the Dragon Riders, young and old, gathered together in the dragonhold above the Star Rose for what they expected to be their final large breakfast in Tronjheim. The following morning's breakfast would be a brief, simple affair prior to their long awaited departure.

Ajh had help from his nine friends in carting the food up the pulley system used by the dwarves, and they enjoyed a hearty, companionable meal. The previous day, all of the mothers had begun packing their belongings so they would be ready as early as possible the next morning to begin their journey back to the Isle. Conversation during the breakfast revolved mostly around these preparations and how the Riders hoped the remaining dwarven youth would be satisfied after one day of flying.

With the food gone and the area cleaned, the families prepared to fly to the north entrance of Tronjheim, where the group of Ingeitum youth would be assembled and waiting to accompany the Riders out under the mountain. Every member of each family would be going this morning, including the youngest children, since their parents would also be taking part in providing dragon rides.

Var had his twelve-year-old sister Monrow by one hand and his eight-year-old sister Viola by the other. Will had Willow Jr. and Ray with him. And Lena was also planning on riding down with him on Glimmer.

As they headed toward Blackfire, Var casually glanced at Zadí and said in passing, "Want to ride with us, Izzie? Then I would have the three prettiest girls up here as my companions."

Zadí patiently looked at him. "I'm going to help my mother with the littlest ones on Fírnen."

Var shrugged. "Very good of you," he approved. "Second mother, after all."

Zadí rolled her eyes. Monrow smiled at her. Var noticed both expressions. "Don't worry, Monrow," he assured. "I still have the two prettiest girls with me." Monrow turned her smile up to him and it became adoring.

"You're _supposed_ to say that," Monrow said in a perfect imitation of Zadí's long-suffering tone.

"Sure enough," Var agreed with a chuckle. "Good thing I'm smart enough to know and do it. But it doesn't change the fact that I mean every word." They kept walking toward Var's dragon.

Monrow sweetly said, "I know, big brother. But I also know that you really think Zadí is the prettiest of anyone."

Var nodded theatrically and gave his younger sister a conspiratorial wink. He turned to look over his shoulder at Zadí, who spared him one more glance while helping her mother with the several young ones they would be tending in Fírnen's saddle. Var winked at her too. Zadí sighed, rolling her eyes again and allowing the smallest smile to grace her lips. Var shrugged, as if helpless, and Zadí's smile widened, though she stubbornly tried to subdue it.

Eragon seemed aware of this subtle exchange amidst the noise and bustle in the dragonhold. All of the twenty-two dragons above the star sapphire belonging to the more senior Riders, their oldest children, and the other two dwarven Dragon Riders besides Bodin's wife Vinya and Keeta, would be carrying several passengers on their backs, since all of the families were getting quite large. The other adults were likewise helping small children get strapped into saddles in front of older brothers, sisters, or mothers with babies in slings around their bodies. Without appearing to, Eragon shrewdly observed Var and Zadí while also helping Brom get a few of his younger siblings into Talon's saddle. A meaningful look passed between him and Arya, then him and Murtagh, and finally him and Varhog.

Varhog shrugged helplessly, as Var had, and it said, _I know the feeling and don't know what to say._

Eragon smiled and dismissively shook his head. His silent message conveyed, _Nor do I. Hopefully things will work themselves out._ Varhog nodded.

Within a matter of a few more busy minutes, the flurry of activity evolved into first a rustle of wings and clicking of talons on the gemstone floor. The noise gradually increased into a rumbling, whooshing thunder as the dragons one by one took flight and exited through the opening above the dragonhold. They covered the short distance to the northern entrance of Tronjheim and carefully descended near the waiting group of Dûrgrimst Ingeitum's youth.

The older passengers then helped the young children off after the brief but thrilling flight, at least in their minds, and herded them together to spend the rest of the day under the watchful care of mothers and siblings who were not Dragon Riders. Nasuada and Greta were primarily responsible for heading up this effort, aided by Lena, Zadí, Ginnee, Hanna, and the other oldest children of the senior Dragon Riders.

Gerik trustingly placed his new dragon hatchling in the midst of this rambunctious group, which was in fact the perfect place for her. Being around a baby dragon was as natural to these children, even the youngest of them, as being around other little ones near their ages. Gerik's small dragon was perfectly at her ease, and the children played as delightedly and carefully with her as they did with one another.

With his anxieties over the safety of his dragon put to rest, Gerik made his way to Keeta and reminded her of her promise that he would get to ride with her.

"I haven't forgotten, Gerik," Keeta said. "Since I have technically been the guardian Rider at this Ceremony, albeit with the help of all the others, I'm expected to go up first. But the others will follow right after. It's not like we're providing a show or anything. Shall we?"

Gerik nodded, insisting Keeta climb to Lightning's saddle before him. "Should I sit in front of you or behind?" Gerik asked once they were standing side by side on Lightning's shoulder joint.

"What do you prefer?"

"Where will I feel safest?" Gerik wondered with a chuckle that didn't quite hide his nervousness.

"Maybe behind," Keeta said, smiling in understanding. "You can hold onto me if you feel unsteady. I always did at first, though I'd had a lot of experience riding with my father by the time I actually became a Rider myself. Unfair advantage, I suppose."

"I have no objections to putting my arms around you," Gerik teased with a merry twinkle in his brown eyes.

Keeta laughed. "Right then. Up you go. I'll make sure your legs are properly strapped in. You really needn't worry about falling. Lightning won't be doing anything acrobatic. Will you, my friend?" she finished to her dragon.

 _Of course not, Keetie,_ Lightning answered for both of them to hear.

Gerik raised his eyebrows with mild, lighthearted accusation in his eyes. "You told me no one had called you that in years."

"No one _has,_ " Keeta insisted while smacking her dragon—carefully, to avoid any sharp scales—on his neck. "Dragons can have a sense of humor too, like any other sentient species. Some simply aren't as funny as others." She laughed when Lightning craned his neck around and nipped at her with pretended threatening. "You know I love you, Lightning."

The dragon dipped his head in his approximation of a nod. Keeta laughed again and affectionately stroked his snout.

Gerik observed this in interest. "Did you speak aloud to him for my sake?" he asked.

Keeta nodded. "And he responded for both of us to hear. Though that was obvious, I suppose." She smiled ruefully.

Gerik chuckled. "You seem to have a good relationship with him."

"I hope so!" Keeta exclaimed. Having finished securing Gerik's legs in the back seat of the saddle, she now took her place in front of him and began doing the same for herself. "If not, it would be pretty miserable all the time. It takes years to really get used to the bond—I'm sure I'm not all the way there yet—but the dragons and their Riders become the best of friends. There is a kind of love and intimacy completely different from what is shared between married couples, but it's still very deep and personal. A bonded Rider or dragon would each willingly give up their life for their partner, but such a loss would be equally as devastating as losing a spouse. More profound on some level, since part of your mind would die with your partner and the ensuing emptiness could never be filled in any other way. We're always aware of one another, aren't we, my friend?" she said to Lightning.

 _Yes, dear one,_ Lightning agreed. _And I will always protect you._

Keeta beamed at her dragon and held onto his bottommost neck spike. "I think we're ready, Lightning," she said. "Hold on, Gerik!"

Gerik quickly did as Keeta suggested, securing his arms tightly around her waist. As the dragon spread his wings and leaped into the sky, Keeta felt the weight of a heavy gaze upon her. She turned toward it, and her eyes met Nefin's. His first passenger was already standing beside him, gazing up at him in a way Keeta hoped _she_ never had done, waiting until it was time for Nefin to help her into the saddle.

Keeta wasn't surprised. The female youth present for the Ceremonies often wanted to ride with the younger male Dragon Riders, while male participants preferred riding with the female Dragon Riders. But up until last year when Brin was chosen, Keeta had been the only female Dragon Rider of the next generation, and riding with the married female Dragon Riders didn't hold nearly the same allure for the young men. So Keeta had been extremely busy at the Urgal Youth Camp. Of course, the Urgal rams had simply seen her as a cute kid sister, small as she was next to them, but they appreciated her fighting abilities and quick wit all the same.

These thoughts quickly passed through Keeta's mind while she was looking at Nefin. She smiled at him, but the way he seriously regarded her made her wonder if he had overheard the entire conversation she had just had with Gerik and Lightning. Keeta couldn't understand why that would trouble him—surely he wasn't jealous!—but she gave no more thought to it right then, for they were up and soaring in the brilliant radiance emanating from Tronjheim's white marble exterior.

Keeta whooped joyously as the exhilaration of flight engulfed her. Gerik did the same. Lightning took them up a good ways toward the opening of the cavernous volcano around them, but it was still miles above them, lined by icicles of enormous and deadly proportions.

Soon the other twenty-one Riders were in the air with their passengers, and light from the sparkling brightness of the city-mountain played off the dragons' multi-hued scales in mesmerizing patterns—like light passing through the widest imaginable variation of prisms.

When high noon came, which was clear by the way the brightest light from the sun fell through the opening ten miles above them, all of the dwarven youth had already had a turn riding the dragons. After lunch, the rides continued so the young people who hadn't already could experience what it was like to ride some of the bigger dragons—Saphira, Thorn, Fírnen, Black Thunder, Blaze, Sunset, and so forth. During this time, those whose earlier flights had been on an older dragon shuffled around and had a turn with the younger Dragon Riders.

Keeta again found herself a highly desirable companion during this time, and many a dwarf lad patiently waited his turn to sit behind her and do as they had seen Gerik do when he held on around her waist. Keeta endured this flattering attention as she had the entire past six months, though with more amusement than at any previous time, thanks to the way it seemed to be affecting Nefin.

She was almost laughing at his disgruntled expression by the time the activities of the day concluded and the Dragon Riders accompanied the dwarven youth on foot to the banquet halls inside Tronjheim, where they would partake of the concluding celebratory feast of that year's proceedings.

Keeta sat at the head of an honorary table next to her father. Her mother, family, and the other dwarven Riders and their families, if they had them, filled the table. Gerik sat by her side in another place of honor as the newest dwarf Rider. The meal was magnificent, long, and happy.

Gerik had never acted even slightly flirtatious or hopeful the entire day, which made Keeta grateful. He was as good a friend as he ever had been. And Keeta really was laughing by the end of the night, not only due to the good humor of the many jovial dwarves around her—some of whom were slightly tipsy on the dwarves' fine mead—but also because Nefin never did seem able to enjoy the occasion as much as she, apparently concerned by the calm attention Keeta was receiving and the innocent way she returned it.

King Orik pronounced some fine words in praise of the long event and earned an appreciative laugh when he jokingly—though there was certainly a degree of seriousness in his words—exclaimed how relieved he was that the final day had arrived. Loud applause and cheering met his final remarks. Then the crowd dispersed and the Dragon Riders returned to the dragonhold above Isidar Mithrim.

Keeta helped the younger brother and sister riding with her off of Lightning and into her parents' marble cave. Her brother right under her, whose name was Kent, was staying with her and Lightning in their cavity. She noticed Nefin carrying one of his sleeping younger siblings into the cavern where his parents were staying.

When Nefin once again glanced in her direction, Keeta smiled and waved cheerfully.

 _Goodnight_ , she silently mouthed. He nodded to return the sentiment. Lightning flew Keeta and her brother to their 'bedroom,' and Arget flew Nefin and Hanna to theirs. The last thoughts Keeta had before drifting off to sleep were about Nefin's approach to sorting out his feelings. Was he really coming to care for her? Keeta barely let herself hope, but she was smiling faintly when sleep found her, and her dreams were of Nefin looking at her across a vast archery shooting range filled with countless dwarven lads who all looked like Gerik.

-:-:-:-

* * *

 **A/N:** I thought it would be cool to go into a little more depth on the flying aspect of the Youth Camps in Tronjheim, since it was such an interesting setting in the original series. And it would have been really awesome to see all those dragons flying around in the white light reflecting off Tronjheim's exterior, don't you think?


	29. Changing the Ceremony

**TWENTY**

 **29\. Changing the Ceremony**

Though the group of ten friends whom Angela regularly visited in their dreams would soon be returning to Ellesméra, the senior Dragon Riders' families still departed Tronjheim the next morning destined for the Isle of the Eldunarí. The adults wanted to get back to their regular routine on the Isle, so the younger Dragon Riders accompanied their parents to help transport small children.

Since they had eventually resumed their studies and training in Tronjheim, their parents felt no qualms about the youth simply leaving again for Ellesméra roughly a month after their anticipated arrival on the Isle. The ten young people had so proven their responsibility and sound judgement during the previous two years, by planning and overseeing the Ceremonies and Youth Camps, that their parents treated them as adults and trusted them to continue demonstrating the same level of maturity. The only two absent from the group of ten were Lena and Ajh, who flew back to Ilirea with their family and planned to meet the rest of the group in Ellesméra at the appointed time, which was late winter.

The Dragon Riders decided that the Human Choosing Ceremony would begin directly after the conclusion of the biennial Games—which were being held that year in Ilirea—so youth who had already traveled to the capitol for that event would be able to stay on for the start of the Ceremony.

As she and her family flew back to Ilirea, the high queen communicated this change of dates throughout her kingdom. Once they arrived in the capitol, Nasuada sent out messengers to carry the news to other cities, villages, and settlements. Along with the details of when the Ceremony would start, she instructed the messengers to convey another change of plans.

Beginning that year, since as a human year it was the start of a new Dragon Rider Choosing Ceremonies cycle, they narrowed the age range to include only youth ages sixteen to twenty-two. After the initial day of brief introductions, the youth in their twenties from every city, village, and settlement would all go first with the egg, and then be allowed to return home to occupations and livelihoods after their Youth Camp. The Dragon Riders anticipated that this group would be smaller, since many young adults in that age range were already married.

Then, if the new Rider still hadn't been found, they would continue with youth ages sixteen to nineteen according to city or town, and hold their Camp after each respective group's turn was complete, before inviting the youth to return home.

And they also planned—with input from the dragons—to allow each candidate only one hour with the egg. They would try to fit twelve youth in every day, making for twelve hour days. The dragons informed the Riders that the hatchling often had a fairly good idea of who they wanted to hatch for after the first day of brief introductions.

This particular discussion took place during the four week interim when all of the Riders save Murtagh, Ajh, and Tomath—who participated via scrying mirror—were back on the Isle and before the youth planned to leave. Breetuk—whose dragon Midnight had known right away that Breetuk was supposed to be her Rider and had taken the first turn with her—asked why they didn't simply find out from the unhatched dragon which youth to take the egg to so the dragon could immediately emerge. They decided that such a measure—on top of all the additional changes being instituted that year—might be perceived as unfair or selective, since only the Dragon Riders and dragons could communicate telepathically with the unhatched dragons. The candidates might feel like the Dragon Riders were showing favoritism based on their personal preferences and not on the wishes of the dragon.

In the end they hoped all of the modifications would serve to considerably shorten the length of the Ceremony. The Dragon Riders wanted the youth of Alagaёsia to have the experience of participating in the Choosing Ceremony and Youth Camp, but they also felt such changes were necessary to satisfy the parents whose youth were leaving for several months, as well as to account for the needs of their own families.

With these details decided and refined, the Dragon Riders felt more confident and comfortable about the approaching Ceremony and Youth Camps. And so it was that approximately a month after they arrived home on the Isle, the group consisting of Brom, Zadí, Var, Will, Brin, Nefin, Hanna, Keeta, and Gerik—who was traveling with them since he also needed a Riders' weapon—set out together for Ellesméra.

Gerik's training began during those four weeks spent on the Isle, and the senior Riders in charge of his education determined that it would continue during the visit to Ellesméra under the direction of the Dragon Riders he was travelling with, specifically Brom, Var, Will, and Keeta, who had been Riders longest out of the next generation. After finishing in Ellesméra, Gerik would return to the Isle with his dragon—who would be large enough by then to fly with him—and remain there throughout the spring so he could complete his first six months of training. At that point, he would be allowed to return home for his first visit.

-:-:-

The flight from the Isle to Ellesméra was fun for the youth. They had never before made the trip without parental supervision. Zadí rode primarily with Brom, though Var occasionally succeeded in convincing her to ride with him. Gerik usually accompanied Keeta, simply because he knew her best. Nefin might have objected, but his sister Hanna flew with him, and it wouldn't have made sense for either he or Keeta not to fly with their own dragon. Whenever any of the Dragon Riders rode their dragons alone, they engaged in all manner of thrilling acrobatic maneuvers.

Gerik watched these demonstrations in wonder. His young dragon was big enough to fly alongside Lightning for some of the flight, but she would hop aboard for a lift when she got tired.

"Is it scary when they do that?" Gerik once asked Keeta. Well, he actually shouted it in her ear so she would hear above the wind.

Keeta smiled and turned, since he was sitting behind her. "Can I speak into your mind?" she yelled. "Like your dragon does?"

Gerik nodded. Keeta then said, _It's nerve-wracking at first, but you will soon get to the point of loving it. The straps keep you from flopping around and being injured. Sometimes the boys do stupid, daring things like jump out of their saddles and swirl through the air until their dragons catch them. I'm happy to stay strapped in and let Lightning do the showing off._

 _I think I would be too,_ Gerik agreed. _It will be fun when Arûna is big enough to fly with me._

 _I still think that's such a lovely name,_ Keeta said. Gerik's dragon had agreed to be named after the Dwarvish phrase meaning 'to bless.'

Gerik shrugged, which Keeta felt with her back to his chest. _It seemed right. Becoming a Dragon Rider felt like a blessing to me._

 _That's a nice way to look at it,_ Keeta said. _And shows your worthiness in being chosen. What has been your favorite part of training so far?_

 _The Rimgar is interesting,_ Gerik admitted with a rueful chuckle that Keeta felt more than heard. _But I'm really enjoying all of the mental exercise. It's much harder to train one's mind than one's body._

 _I agree,_ Keeta said. _I think it goes on much longer too. The senior Riders still spend time every day in solitary meditation, even the mothers with little children. Especially them. They tell us younger girls that it's the only way they stay sane with the constant demands of so many little ones. You will get some unique insight into Dragon Rider training in Ellesméra. The library is incredible. How is the ancient language coming?_

 _Better than I thought,_ Gerik said. _But it's overwhelming when I compare myself to you others. You all have been learning the major languages of Alagaёsia since you began speaking any language. But constantly hearing it is helpful._

 _Would you like to switch?_ Keeta asked, since they were currently speaking Dwarvish. _I can help you practice._

 _Sure,_ Gerik said. So they switched to the ancient language and Keeta fulfilled one of her responsibilities of continuing Gerik's training with a mental language lesson.

-:-:-:-


	30. Arrival in Ellesméra

**30\. Arrival in Ellesméra**

They arrived in Ellesméra in the morning, so they immediately made their way to Rhunön's familiar dogwood tunnel, which was bare of leaves but beginning to grow buds in the warm late winter weather.

As they walked, Var asked Will, "Have you scryed Lena yet, little brother?"

"Ha!" Will exclaimed. "Little brother, indeed. And yes, I scryed Lena. Just like every other morning and evening."

"And are they here yet?" Var pressed.

"Should be here in an hour or so," Will answered. "They needed help remembering how to get past Gilderien the _Wise._ "

Hanna looked at Will reproachfully. "You should not mock him, Will. He is guardian of this part of the forest."

"Yes, ma'am," Will said with playful contrition. He reached out and gently brushed his hand along one of the trees as he walked by. "Cry your pardon, Mr. Gilderien-elda, sir. Much obliged that you allowed us to pass unharmed into Ellesméra." He glanced hopefully at Hanna. "Better, my lady?"

Hanna rolled her eyes, giggling in surrender. "I suppose, you great loon."

Will casually draped one of his arms across her shoulders and mussed her hair in an infuriatingly 'older brother' manner. "Why, thank you! Such a compliment as that from one so fair is more than I deserve."

"Oh, please," Hanna said with a faint blush. "Lena needs to get here quickly so you have an outlet for your pent-up affection."

"Couldn't agree more," Will lightly said. "Though Rhunön will surely do in the meantime."

Everyone laughed with Will and Hanna as they arrived in front of the half-walled hut housing Rhunön's ancient forge. The elf smith was inside.

"I will surely do _what_ in the meantime?" the old elf rasped in her grating voice without looking up from her work.

"You will surely do as an outlet for my pent-up affection, Auntie Woo-non!" Will cried, as if it ought to be obvious. He ducked into the smithy and pulled Rhunön into a tight embrace. "We have missed you, dear old mother," he said in a tone of utmost respect.

"There's a new one," Rhunön dryly said. "Never thought to be called mother by anyone."

"No?" Will wondered. "And yet your creations are nearly numberless to the casual observer, far more than any biological mother could claim. But to you they are each as dear and well-remembered as any tiny babe to its birth mother."

Rhunön blinked rapidly for a moment and gruffly cleared her throat. "You boys," she murmured. "So charming. Where is the lovely crown princess?"

"On her way with her Dragon Rider brother," Will replied. "And she is indeed my sweetheart now, just as you predicted. Though she was last time too, only not as openly."

"Have you plans to get married?" Rhunön asked.

"Certainly," Will said. "Maybe later this summer. But we have a lot happening before then. This trip. The Games. Choosing Ceremony. Youth Camp. Busy schedule we keep."

Rhunön grinned. "So it would seem. Well, quit monopolizing me. Let me greet these others."

She quickly did. When she reached Gerik, who had hung back beside Keeta—and they both nearly got lost in the crowd of so many tall people—she stopped. "Here's a new face. Who are you?"

"Gerik, wise one," Gerik answered in the best ancient language he could manage under the circumstances. "I'm the newest dwarf Rider, chosen only two months ago."

Rhunön nodded with a strange tenderness in her eyes and responded in Dwarvish, "Welcome, young man. You may speak your native tongue with me, if you prefer. I first learned my craft from a famous dwarven Grimstborith." Then she turned back to appraise the others. "So you have all reached your adult size now?" Her eyes stopped on Brom.

"It's hard to be sure, Rhunön-elda," Brom answered. "I just had another growth spurt," he shot a triumphant glance at Brin, "which made me taller than Brin again." Brin scoffed, and Brom grinned. "At any rate, I will be nineteen in a couple months, which was how old my father was when he stopped growing. I am now as tall as he. And even though he grew considerably after Brisingr was forged, the sword still works perfectly for him. You would undoubtedly have a better idea than we, but we feel that having our weapons made now would not be overly problematic."

Rhunön barked a short laugh. "A fine speech, Brom. I am never one who needs much convincing when it comes to making weapons. And Riders' weapons, no less. My favorite kind of challenge. I would be delighted to begin forging your weapons. With your help, of course. How long do you plan to stay?"

"As long as it takes," Brom said. "Most of us prefer swords, but a few would like other weapons, if you aren't opposed."

"Not at all," Rhunön muttered, turning a shrewd eye on Nefin. "You would be one of them, wouldn't you, young man?"

"Indeed, honored one," Nefin replied. "I already have a beautiful Rider's sword that is a perfect fit for me and the same silver color as Arget, minus the lavender highlights. But that doesn't bother me at all. I'm best with a bow and arrows. Those I currently have are from my most recent master and are only a step above practice quality, though they function passably well. Having one made specifically for me would be my preference. But I can seek out a bowyer and fletcher."

Rhunön snorted. "Do not insult me, Nefin. I can craft every type of weapon, though we will almost certainly use wood for your bow, if you would like to help me. I can be fully involved in the making of a bow and arrows, since my oath was simply not to create new Riders' blades. But we might consider using brightsteel for the arrowheads. And who else?" Rhunön asked, searching the small group. "You two?" she wondered when she once again looked at Keeta and Gerik.

"Yes, Rhunön-elda," Keeta respectfully said. "We would both rather have axes. A sword for our size doesn't look like much more than a long knife."

"You shall have your axes, young lady," Rhunön promised. She briefly studied Gerik then looked back at Keeta. "Another budding romance?" she bluntly queried.

Keeta looked in surprise at Gerik standing by her side. "No, honored one," she assured. "At least, not in my mind. Sorry, Gerik. I didn't mean for that to sound rude." She turned back to Rhunön. "We have been friends all our lives, that's all. Gerik is still getting to know these others."

"I see," Rhunön knowingly said. Keeta flushed and kept her eyes studiously away from Nefin, who was carefully regarding her.

Then the old elf woman addressed Zadí and Hanna. "How about you two dears?"

Zadí smiled her most winning smile, and Rhunön blinked as if a ray of bright light had flashed in her eyes.

"No, thank you," Zadí sweetly said. "First off, I'm not even a Dragon Rider, so I don't need a special sword. On top of that, I've never cared much for fighting, though my parents insisted I learn self-defense. I can handle a sword without killing myself, but I will never be like these others. It sounds ridiculously girly to admit, but I much prefer dancing."

Var was standing where Zadí couldn't see him, and he smiled at her confession, his adoration plainly evident to all who noticed, including Rhunön. She questioningly quirked an eyebrow at him. Var simply shook his head and put a finger to his lips. He quickly dropped it, clearing his expression, when Zadí turned to see what Rhunön meant. Zadí pressed her lips together to suppress the smile struggling to emerge at Var's exaggerated look of innocence.

Zadí shook her head in mild exasperation as she faced forward once more. Then Rhunön, who seemed more amused by the minute at the young adult drama in the group, turned to Hanna.

Hanna said, "I feel the same, Rhunön-elda. My gift is in healing and protection, not fighting and causing injury. I have no need of a weapon, and like Zadí, I am also not a Rider."

"And how about this other Dragon Rider?" Rhunön wondered. "Will he also want a sword?"

Will's face lit up in delight. "Why don't we ask him to find out? They just got here!"

The group turned toward the noise coming from the direction of the dogwood tunnel, where Ajh and Lena were hurriedly making their way into the atrium, with Berry in close pursuit.

Lena was halfway across the clearing when Will's resolve to stay with the others broke. He dashed toward her and swept her up into an exuberant embrace. "Lena!" he exclaimed, followed by a series of affectionate kisses all over her cheeks and forehead. "Has it only been two months since I last saw you?"

Lena's words were audible, in spite of Will's enthusiastic greeting. "It _felt_ like longer," she said with a breathless laugh, her arms wrapped around his neck. She began to return his loving kisses. But with both of them trying to kiss the other while avoiding contact with the lips, the inevitable soon happened and they kissed right on the forbidden surface. Their surprised jerk back, which happened at exactly the same moment, was so comical that everyone laughed.

Then Will's eyes widened appreciatively. "No irresistible urges," he muttered, leaning down to kiss Lena's lips again.

"Mmmm," Lena murmured as the kiss lengthened.

Ajh, who was closest to this lively reunion, loudly cleared his throat. "That be quite enough," he good-naturedly drawled. Then in his actual, cultured voice, he added, "Even if the kiss doesn't affect the half Urgal part of the equation as it might a full Urgal, there comes a point when it has the same effect on everyone. Best you remember that, you two lovebirds."

Will and Lena reluctantly pulled apart. Will's eyes never left Lena's face, though Lena was able to turn toward her brother and smile apologetically. "True, brother," she agreed. Then, to all the others, she said, "Sorry, everyone. I was . . . uh . . . a little excited to see Will." She looked back up into his adoring face and stroked one of his cheeks with a gentle hand. "I missed you, love," she whispered.

Will nodded and pulled her close so her face was against his chest, resting his chin on top of her head. It looked as if they would both be content to remain that way the rest of the day.

Rhunön chuckled gruffly. "Young love," she said in a nostalgic, almost envying way. In an almost inaudible whisper she added, "So many centuries ago . . ." Then she shook her head sharply as if awakening from a dream and said more loudly, "Well, now that Will is sufficiently distracted, I suppose I will just have to speak to his identical copy. Have _you_ reached your full adult size, Var?"

"Like Brom said, it's hard to be sure," Var answered. "We're six feet eight inches tall. Four inches shorter than father, but we haven't grown any in nearly a year and will also be nineteen in a few more months. I think any swords forged for us at our current size would be plenty big enough."

Rhunön wryly said, "I should think so."

Ajh sauntered over to join the larger group and leave the two lovebirds on their own. Rhunön looked up at him. "So tall, you all are," she muttered. "Except for the dwarves, but even they seem tall for their race."

Ajh performed a princely bow. "It be true, waihz one," he drawled in his soft accent.

Rhunön raised her eyebrows, and Ajh chuckled, immediately dropping the drawl. "Forgive me, honored one," he said in his perfectly articulate court speech. "Just something I picked up from my favorite chef in Ilirea. He's from an obscure village in Surda. But the way they speak is delightful and I can't resist copying him whenever I can, even when I shouldn't."

"Why would the royal prince be spending time in the royal kitchens?" Rhunön curiously asked.

"To master the fine art of cooking," Ajh pleasantly replied. "Or haven't you heard about all of our strange skills and areas of expertise?"

"No, indeed," Rhunön said. "Won't you enlighten me?"

"Ah'd be glad tah," Ajh drawled. "But won't you kindly sit yourself down a moment?"

"Such gentlemen," Rhunön approvingly murmured as she moved to the yew branch hammock. "Your fathers taught you well."

Ajh nodded his acquiescence and began, "From the time most of us turned six, we have had a dream each year on our birthdays with an old friend of our parents named Angela. She has given each of us specific counsel that we must master a particular skill. Her advice to me was to learn to cook, simply put, though each year she has elaborated a bit more on that basic concept. I'm looking forward to this time in Ellesméra as an opportunity to learn many more ways of preparing plant foods, specifically with the intention of preserving them for long periods of time." He stopped and looked around himself with an invitation on his face for anyone to continue.

Brom did. "Angela instructed me to learn to use magic with my mind. And various related topics." He acted like he would stop, but Brin scoffed again.

"So modest," she muttered, and Brom once again grinned at her.

Rhunön picked up on this and grunted, "Another reluctant romance."

Brom laughed. "A good way to put it, honored one. At least for the lady in question. And since she seems to think I need to explain more, I will." He cast another meaningful glance in Brin's direction and muttered, "See what an obedient, submissive boy I am?" Brin giggled.

Then Brom continued, "I can block all perception of myself from magical awareness. I don't even really know how I do, but to one who can use their mind to perceive energy, I can make myself invisible. I can then enter the mind of any person I choose, though I never do without permission—or at least, haven't yet—and know their thoughts. If it's a magician, and it has always been Blödhgarm on the Isle, I can determine any spells they might be using and counter them with mental effort. Lately I've been working on reversing magical wards that said person might have cast to protect themselves."

Rhunön's eyes widened disbelievingly. "You don't say," she wondered. "That is incredible, Brom."

"It's all I have concentrated on for the past almost thirteen years," he dismissed. "Focus. My one great talent."

"I doubt it," Rhunön said. "Not with parents like yours. How about you, missy?" she said to Brin.

"I'm the muscle," Brin teased, nudging her huge cousin Var, who had four inches on her in height and easily a hundred pounds more muscle. Then she laughed. "Not really, Rhunön-elda. I'm the fighter. Angela told me to learn how to fight, mainly in close quarters. I'm really good with my hands, elbows, knees, feet, and head. And with a knife. But I can hold my own with a sword against Brom, Nefin, or Ajh. And I'm decent with a bow and arrows but won't ever be like Nefin. Maybe more like Keeta, come to think of it." Brin cast a playful glance down at her small friend, who blushed.

"Hush, Brin," Keeta warned, and Brin laughed.

"You have gotten really good, Keeta," Brin insisted. "At least that's what Nefin said."

Nefin nodded as Keeta looked at him. Then she said, "Better than I used to be, for sure. But nowhere near Nefin. I'm pretty sure that's impossible when I will always be almost a full two feet shorter."

Rhunön also noticed this overture between the dwarf and elf and threw her hands in the air. "Will it never end? I'm getting dizzy trying to keep all of these nuances straight! At least those two seem to know what they want." This she said while raising a bent finger toward Will and Lena, who were still holding one another and murmuring a quiet conversation.

Nefin chuckled. "Some of us just take a little longer to figure such things out, honored one. My skill is tracking, wilderness survival, things of that nature."

"Must come easily to you as an elf," Rhunön observed.

"Certainly," Nefin allowed.

"How about you, lass?" Rhunön asked Keeta.

"Prepare yourself, Rhunön-elda," Keeta said with affected bravado as she puffed out her chest and drew herself up to her full four foot eight inch height. "I'm excellent at math." She let out her breath and laughed mockingly. "There's a little more to it than that, but the truth is, I'm just the brainy one. No, I suppose that's actually Lena. I'm just good at planning, organizing, figuring out numbers. The boring stuff that puts everyone else to sleep."

Nefin reprovingly shook his head at Keeta's self-deprecating manner, but she cheerfully ignored him.

"Who does that leave, then?" Rhunön wondered. "Var?"

"Angela counseled me and Will to learn about ships. How to build and operate a sailing ship. So we have. And our ship is quite a beauty, if I may say so myself." The others nodded their fervent agreement.

"A ship?" Rhunön muttered in surprise. "Though most of you have dragons? How interesting. And you two sweet girls?" she wondered of Zadí and Hanna.

"I can smile," Zadí said in the same self-effacing way Keeta had.

"Please, Izzie," Var groused. "That's not all."

Zadí irritably looked up at him. "It's nothing, Var. Seriously, my gift is pathetic compared to any of the rest of yours."

" _I_ don't think so," Var countered.

"Of course not!" Zadí exclaimed. " _Everything_ about me is just marvelous to _you_."

Var nodded emphatically, his eyebrows raised. "True."

"Let's hear how you would define Zadí's gift, Var," Rhunön invited.

"Gladly," Var said. "Zadí can be friends with anyone. Real friends. She has this way of getting to know people that's so beautiful and sincere. She makes everyone feel special and appreciated—except me, of course," he winked at Zadí, "since I'm constantly pestering her." Rhunön chuckled.

Var went on, "And since she can find out in about five minutes what really motivates a person at their very core, she can convince them to do anything she wants, but only because she uses their own goals to persuade them. But with me, all she really has to do is smile—that's actually true for most boys—and I would do anything she wanted. Anything."

All teasing was gone by the end. Zadí clearly heard it, though she was no longer looking at Var. Her eyes had begun a careful study of the yew branch hammock about halfway through his speech.

Var gently added, "But the saddest thing is, Zadí refuses to see how amazing that ability is because she is constantly comparing herself to those in this group whose talents seem more important or impressive. I wish she wouldn't forget the power of a simple, sincere smile. It has been enough before to change the world for good."

Rhunön nodded thoughtfully. "That it has, my boy," she agreed. "I do believe you are referring to your mother and father, aren't you?"

"Yes, ma'am," Var quietly said. He was still watching Zadí, so he noticed when she impatiently reached up and brushed a finger across her eyes. She then sniffed and turned away altogether. Var longingly lifted his hand toward her, as if wishing he could somehow comfort her. But then he dropped it back down, knowing she wouldn't appreciate it. He shrugged helplessly at Rhunön.

Rhunön looked expectantly at Hanna. "Earlier you alluded to healing and protecting. Is this your gift?"

Hanna dipped her chin. "Yes, honored one. I have learned how to heal with magic and with plants. And more recently, I have learned how to cast and maintain protective wards—specifically against magical attacks—on multiple people at once. It's hard."

"I can imagine," Rhunön sympathized. "Is that all then? Lena?"

Lena didn't hear, so Ajh answered, "As Keeta implied, Lena's counsel was to sharpen her mind and learn to reason her way through difficult problems. And she is constantly doing just that. Her main topics of contemplation are magical enforcement and the Eldunarí, which she thinks share some inexplicable tie."

"Interesting," Rhunön mused. "Why do you suppose you have all been given these unique tasks?"

Brom shrugged. "We have made all sorts of guesses, honored one," he said. "None of us really know. But it does seem like we're being prepared to face something as a team, since each of us was supposed to master a different yet complementary skill."

Keeta added, "Whatever it is, we feel like it's getting closer. My last birthday dream had more specific advice than ever. Angela told me to prepare the ship—the twins' ship—for a long, arduous journey." She left off the last bit, about preparing it for nine people, but the way she anxiously clasped her hands alerted all of her friends to what was on her mind.

Rhunön dropped her chin into her hand and pensively considered this for several long moments. "Do any of you know the story of Willow's armor?" she then asked, looking up again.

The young people glanced at one another in surprise at the odd change of subject. All of them save Gerik nodded their heads.

"I have just had a similar impression as I had then," Rhunön slowly explained. "Some of you need more than weapons. Some of you need armor and shields. It won't be steel-silk armor, of that I am sure. But I think it will be brightsteel mail. I will use the same process I did in the forging of that particular piece, but without the addition of spider silk." She fell silent again, still musing.

When she spoke, Rhunön asked, "Who are the main fighters? In the physical sense?"

Var shrugged. "I guess it would be me, Will, Brin, Nefin, Keeta, and Ajh. Brom is amazing with a sword, but his gift has always suggested a mental duel, not a physical one."

"Yes, that's exactly what I was getting at," Rhunön approvingly muttered. "But Brin. Brin needs the steel-silk. Hmmm. We shall have to see about arranging that. So you others. Five others. Shirts of mail in addition to Riders' weapons. And shields of some sort as well. We have work to do! Let us not delay, unless you wish to be here all spring." She eyed Brom and Brin. "What do you say to showing an old lady how you can fight?" she eagerly suggested. And they responded in exactly the same manner.

-:-:-:-


	31. Reluctant Ladies Relent

**31\. Reluctant Ladies Relent**

Whenever Rhunön needed one of the eleven youth to assist her in some way, they gladly did so. But if they weren't thus occupied, how they passed their days was completely up to them. And since Rhunön could only work on the actual forging process with one Rider, the rest found themselves enjoying a great deal of luxury time.

Since Brom and Brin fought first for Rhunön, she forged their two swords first. And neither one of them needed armor. Actually, Rhunön informed them that she felt Brin needed armor more than anyone, but she was adamant that Brin would only be able to fight at her best with the steel-silk armor. The old elf smith seemed sure that such an outcome would work itself out. She even went so far as to joke with Brom that faith had once saved his life, so was it too preposterous to believe that a little faith might result in a fortuitous lending of the precious steel-silk armor where it was most needed?

With that ambiguous reassurance, Rhunön left the anxious Brom to fret over the future perils of his beloved by himself, for she had more work to do, and what a grand time she was having! She next crafted the twins' blades. They fought most fiercely with one another to demonstrate their style, which was nearly identical, of course. After this enthusiastic duel, Var left Will to begin forging his sword under Rhunön's guidance and returned to bathe at Tialdarí Hall, where they were all staying.

Brom and Brin accompanied him back, their new swords belted proudly to their waists. These two had once again engaged in an aggressive contest, the purpose of which, as far as Var could tell, was to determine if Brom could yet subdue Brin. He seemed to be getting closer, but this particular time, after Brom had pinned Brin from behind with his new sword pressed to her throat, she had bitten his hand hard and swiveled away from him, ready to carry on.

Brom had surrendered right then, nursing his wounded hand until Hanna finally got tired of his exaggerated moaning and healed the minor injury, which measure Brom had avoided performing himself—though he could have—to get sympathy from Brin. They were still bantering back and forth about it as they approached the gardens outside Tialdarí Hall.

"—never believe how much it hurts when someone bites you," Brom was saying.

Brin only laughed. "You'll have to be more careful next time. I once warned you that I could bite you to get away, so I did. Your hand was too close. And I still could have kicked your knee in, but I'm avoiding that one until the bitter end. You'll have to think of a way to get my legs out of play. This new sword is gorgeous, but my whole body is my best weapon, Brom. Until you think of it like that, I will always get away."

Brom glanced sideways and swept his eyes up her body. "And since your best weapon is more gorgeous than any sword ever was or will be—don't tell Rhunön I said that—it's going to be hard for me to think of it like that. Don't know why, though. You have hurt me with it more times than I can count."

Brin snickered. "Quit whining about it, Brom. Hanna healed you before two minutes had passed."

"Have you ever been bitten?" Brom demanded. "As hard as possible? And by someone with teeth as sharp as yours? Let me demonstrate for you, then tell me to quit whining." He threateningly grabbed her hand.

Brin laughed again and simply moved over closer to Brom until their shoulders were touching, allowing him to continue holding her hand. "Maybe sometime I'll let you," she suggestively invited. "You just need to defeat me first."

Brom's eyes widened disbelievingly. Then a small smile stole across his face. "What a promise," he muttered. "You always know just how to motivate me."

Brin nodded confidently and glanced at Var. "What?" she wondered.

Var suddenly stuck out his arm to stop them both. He put his finger to his lips and spoke in their minds, _Do you hear that?_

Brom immediately nodded, though Brin had to strain for a moment. Var grinned. _It's Zadí. She's singing in the gardens. And I would bet Blackfire's first egg that she's dancing too. I'm going to make myself invisible and sneak in there to watch her. You two talk to her, distract her so she doesn't notice._

Brom agreed with an eager, encouraging nod. Brin rolled her eyes and smiled at her cousin. _We should all go swimming later,_ Brin suggested. _When you_ reveal _yourself,_ she raised her hands, dramatically wiggling her fingers, _invite Zadí too. I'm sure Will would appreciate it. Forging a sword the way Rhunön does is hard work. We have all gotten sweatier today than most polite company—insert the elves—would consider appropriate._

 _Good idea,_ Var approved. _Here I go._ He made himself invisible and continued walking next to Brom and Brin, who picked up their conversation as they passed through the gate into Tialdarí Hall's magnificent gardens. The singing ceased once they did, and all three of them saw Zadí standing in a far corner, casually running her fingers along the velvety petals of a stunning flower before leaning over the smell it.

"Hi," Brom called as Var began to silently make his way in Zadí's direction.

Zadí turned toward them. "Hi," she echoed. "What are you two doing?"

"We just got our new swords," Brin said. "And finished a grueling fight. So we're really sweaty and gross. At least Brom is, so he was going to bathe himself," she glanced at Brom with a mischievous grin on her face, and he tickled her. Brin laughed, squirming away as she added, "And I'm taking a nap."

"What are you doing?" Brom asked.

"Just singing," Zadí replied, apparently guessing they had heard as much on their walk in. "And admiring the flowers. They're so pretty."

Var had assumed his position and thought to himself, _But not as pretty as you, gorgeous. And that's not_ all _you were doing, I guarantee it._ He quietly and carefully—so he wouldn't move any surrounding plants or make any noise—lowered himself to the ground over the stone inlaid path where it formed a small nook under some low-hanging vines.

Brom smiled at his younger sister. "Well, I need to take care of this objectionable stench, so we will leave you to your singing and be on our way."

Zadí laughed and waved in farewell. Once she had ascertained they were gone, she softly took up her song and continued gently fingering the colorful blooms around her. After a few more minutes of solitude, she then began gracefully dancing from one plant to the next. Though she was wearing leather leggings, as was the usual habit of female Dragon Riders or their offspring who frequently flew on dragons, she mimed having skirts and pretended to hold them out to her sides in elegant ease.

Var observed her adoringly with a tender smile on his face. How did she become more precious to him with every passing day? But no matter what he tried—teasing, honesty, flirting, chivalry—it never changed anything. Zadí only reluctantly tolerated his attention and affection since they were friends and had been all their lives. He and Brom had often lamented their sad situation until Brin had confessed she liked Brom after the Urgal Youth Camp. Well, at least that part of her liked Brom. But that was enough for Brom, enough to keep him patiently waiting and trying forever.

But Var didn't even have that sliver of hope, small as it was, to go on. Maybe he just needed to back off. Maybe Zadí felt stifled. Var realized that might very well be a big part of it, but the insight did nothing to alleviate the fierce protectiveness he felt for Zadí. Though he recognized her uniqueness more than anyone else, especially more than Zadí herself, her constant complaint that she was pathetic or useless compared to the rest contained a shred of truth. She wasn't as strong of a fighter as the rest, nor could she use magic, which at least gave Hanna some means of protection. And while Zadí could perform basic self-defense, she would most likely still not be able to protect herself from a strong man, should one ever get it in his mind to harm her.

The thought filled Var with indignant rage. It wasn't his job to protect Zadí, something she would no doubt agree to with a fiery passion, but that didn't change the fact that he still would. Not only was protecting those in need one of the Dragon Riders' main responsibilities, but Var was Varhog's son. And Eragon was one of Var's most influential role models. Those two men had pounded this lesson into Var, Will, and Brom's minds more than any other during their upbringing—respect and honor women, always protect them, never use your strength to hurt or take advantage of one.

Not only did Var believe that because it was how he had been taught, but also because he knew it was right. He would protect any girl or woman in trouble or danger, but none more than the girl he loved. He focused his full attention back on Zadí when she began speaking aloud.

"Oh!" she cried as if surprised. "You startled me, good sir. I am embarrassed you happened upon me like this. What's that? Would I like a partner? Well, now that you mention it, I wouldn't mind at all!" Zadí smiled at her pretend intruder and held up her hands as if she had just joined with a partner, one resting on an imaginary shoulder and the other clasping an invisible hand. Then she began waltzing around by herself.

Zadí was so beautiful and her charade so adorable that Var couldn't keep a soft laugh from escaping his mouth. Then he clamped his lips together. But Zadí heard and whirled toward the sound, immediately stopping her endearing act.

"Who was that?" she demanded. "Var, are you here somewhere?"

Var stood up and ended his spell, materializing right in front of her.

"Oh!" she gasped, this time not pretending at all as one hand flew to her heart in surprise. "Var!" she then scolded. "You scared me! How long have you been watching?"

"Long enough to know the lady wanted a partner," Var answered with a formal bow. "Shall we?" He hopefully extended his hands.

Zadí blushed that she had been discovered but was apparently in good enough spirits that she relented with an obliging smile and stepped toward Var. She put her right hand in his left and rested her left hand on his right shoulder just below the curve of his muscle. Rather than position his right hand over her shoulder blade, as he would have done in a formal waltz, Var simply circled his arm around her waist, pulling Zadí against him.

She stared up at Var in amusement. "So how long _were_ you watching me?"

"Since Brom and Brin came by," Var admitted. "They were my cover. We heard you singing as we were approaching the garden fence. I guessed you were dancing too and wanted to watch. There's no way you would have continued if you knew I was watching."

"No," Zadí ruefully agreed, "no way at all. What made you think I was dancing?"

"I _know_ you, Iz—Zadí," Var quickly corrected himself, not wanting to push his luck while she was willingly dancing with him. "As long as anyone has known you, I've known you. I was at your birth—"

"But you weren't even two and a half!" Zadí exclaimed.

"Yes, but I still remember things about it," Var insisted. "I remember wishing I could have a younger sister like Brom. And I still remember when you first opened your eyes because of what your mother said. She said, 'They're already green like mine! How odd. Newborn babies' eyes are usually deep blue.' Then your mother invited all of us young boys over to see what she meant. And I remember this most clearly of all. I already thought you were precious and that your green eyes were the prettiest I had ever seen."

Zadí blushed and glanced down. There weren't many options of where to look, and Var saw her indecision. She could stare straight at his chest in front of her, up at his face, or off to the side. Var thought she would surely opt for the lattermost choice, and he was almost right. What surprised him was that she also rested her cheek against him in what seemed an almost contented, accepting gesture.

Var unconsciously froze and gently added, "And you have always loved dancing. Almost from the time you could walk, you danced everywhere you went. And I watched whenever I could. Before I fell—" Var stopped himself. He had almost said, 'Before I fell in love with you.' He shook his head. Not a good way to keep the magic of this moment alive. So he amended, "Before we grew up, we used to be partners a lot more often."

Zadí smiled and nodded against him. Then she said, "Are you holding your breath?"

Var slowly let out his breath and chuckled softly. "I guess I was."

"Why?"

"So I wouldn't break the spell."

Zadí laughed. Looking down at her, Var was sorely tempted to rest his chin on her head like Will had done with Lena, but he was still worried about pushing his luck. While he was watching her, Zadí wrinkled her nose.

"Um, Var," she began as if she needed to say the next with some delicacy. Then she bluntly finished, "You stink."

Var laughed loudly and lowered his head while raising his left arm so he could sniff himself. He grimaced at the odor of his sweat. "You say true, lady," he regretfully assented. "Will and I were fighting before. I was actually on my way back to clean up."

"Let me not detain you," Zadí teased, but she didn't step away right then.

" _You_ smell amazing," Var then said when it appeared that the enchantment still hadn't quite worn off. He finally gave in and put his nose against her hair. "Like roses. Jasmine. Lavender. And all of these other amazing flowers that the elves have created from nothing and which are therefore nameless to me."

Zadí still didn't move or object, and Var marveled at his good fortune. He hopefully added, "Brin suggested going swimming later on, after Will is finished with Rhunön. Interested?"

"Sure," Zadí said, looking up at him. "I'll fly with you."

Var grinned. "That was easy. Didn't even have to ask."

Zadí smiled back and shook her head. Var felt the familiar sensation of going weak in the knees and having his thoughts tangle themselves up. Before ruining the perfection of the moment by saying something idiotic, he dropped his hands and stepped back.

"Thanks for the dance," he managed without sounding utterly foolish.

"My pleasure," Zadí lightly said, still smiling. "It's more fun with a _real_ partner."

Var was backing up and trying not to stumble, but her smile was still interfering with his gross motor control and coherent thinking. "Next time you want to dance with a real partner, come find me. I'm always willing."

Var could see from the way Zadí's eyes sparkled that she knew the effect she was having on him and relished it. Ever smiling, she simply curtsied—once again holding out invisible skirts—and murmured, "I'll keep that in mind."

Var sensed that he was about to run into something, so he abruptly turned around and sidestepped the bench right behind him. Zadí's tinkling laugh followed him as he left the gardens with a dazed grin on his face.

-:-:-:-

* * *

 **A/N:** I did a lot of ballroom dancing growing up, so I love that scene with Zadí and Var. I can totally see myself dancing around, pretending I'm wearing a dress. Though growing up, I often _was_ wearing some type of flowy thing while cavorting about. :)


	32. The Confident Couple

**32\. The Confident Couple**

After his sword and armor were finished, Lena spent every spare minute with Will. And she had also spent all of her time at Rhunön's smithy during the forging of his weapon, admiring his strength and giggling at his many teasing quips. Will never seemed to tire of bantering with Rhunön, as if it was some type of personal challenge to break through her hardened exterior to the delightful character underneath. No one seemed to bring that out in her as well as Will.

One afternoon, as they were meandering through the city-forest, Lena's arm linked through his, she suggested, "Let's go visit the Menoa tree. Shall we?"

"Sure, honey," Will easily agreed. He was always so easygoing and willing to do anything to please her. Lena hoped this characteristic might work in her favor this afternoon, for she had a very specific question for him.

Ellesméra in the spring seemed designed specifically for couples in love. Lena found everything about their surroundings romantic—the mesmerizing array of colors and patterns created by the endless variety of plant life, the tantalizing smells wafting through the air, the music of the woodland creatures, and the magic of the elves. All together, these features contributed to what Lena hoped would be the perfect mood.

The increasingly tangled network of roots crisscrossing the forest floor was the clearest clue that they were nearing the gigantic pine tree. Will unexpectedly swept Lena into his arms and began hopping nimbly from one root to the next. At first, he did so with unconscious ease and grace. But then, just to make Lena laugh, he began swaying dangerously with each jump, pretending he might lose his balance and topple off the taller and taller roots.

Lena did indeed laugh, and right before Will stopped, she shrieked anxiously as he really did almost drop her, or so it seemed. But he caught himself, of course, just before the terrifying moment, which Lena could clearly see from the way he laughed jovially and casually righted himself.

"Scared you, didn't I?" Will whispered as he set her down.

"Yes!" Lena exclaimed. "You're such a clown, Will." He nodded seriously, and she giggled. "And I love you all the more because of it."

"Phew!" Will breathed with exaggerated relief. Then he chuckled as she laughed, squeezing her tightly against him. "I love you too, Lena," he murmured into her hair. "So much." He pulled away and looked down at her. "So when are we going to get married?"

Lena scoffed. "How did you know I was going to ask you that?"

Will shrugged. "Maybe because I know you," he hopefully suggested, like there was only one right answer and she might scold him if he guessed wrong.

Lena laughed again. "It's amazing we ever manage to discuss _anything_ serious."

"Yes, indeed," Will agreed, finally assuming the true seriousness she knew he would all along. "There are a few reasons I haven't yet asked you, Lena, though I'm not sure how satisfactory they will be. Would you still like to hear them?"

Lena nodded earnestly. "Yes, please. I don't want to wait much longer, Will. Why should we? We're nearly nineteen and both completely sure of what we want."

"Absolutely," Will agreed, sitting on the root under their feet and inviting her to join him, which she immediately did. "The first reason, which is probably most important in my mind, is that I haven't asked your father for his permission."

Lena interjected, "Why? He will grant it, Will. He told me three years ago that he would if you ever approached him. Actually, he said that he and Uncle Eragon have both often felt that they would like nothing more than to have you and Var fall in love with their oldest daughters because you are Varhog's sons and he has no doubt taught you the proper way to treat your future wives."

"Yes," Will confirmed. "Father has certainly done that. But I haven't hesitated because I was afraid your father might refuse, Lena. It's actually slightly related to something else you said. It's no secret that Var _does_ love Zadí. But it's also no secret that she _doesn't_ love him back. He and I are both still hopeful that might change. She's only sixteen, and Var realizes that she is probably too young to reciprocate his feelings now. He doesn't know if she ever will, though he certainly hopes she one day might. Anyway, part of me really wants to do this with Var, but I know he doesn't expect me to wait. We would like to be able to approach your father and Uncle Eragon together, since that's how we do almost everything. Var told me about something that happened with Zadí in the gardens the other day. She danced with him and seemed a lot more open to him than ever before. He was hopeful it might be a sign of things to come, but he told me not to wait on him."

Will put his arms around her shoulders and gently pulled her into his chest. "I promise I'll propose later this summer, honey. After all of this stuff we have to do is over—"

"But what if the Ceremony lasts six months?" Lena quietly interrupted. "Like last year. Couldn't we be married during that?"

"We could," Will allowed. "But I want to take you away on a nice honeymoon. And be alone together for a long time. We've both committed to these Camps—they were our idea in the first place—and as a Dragon Rider, I have an obligation to be present for the Ceremony, at least with the way we have chosen to structure it this year. We all need to be around to help with those shifts every day."

Lena nodded sadly. "I understand. I just hate thinking about the uncertainties in our future. We know something big is coming. We know one of us ten might not be there. It could just as easily be you or I as anyone. And then what? If something happened to one of us before we got married, it would be devastating."

"Shh, Lena," Will softly murmured. "We'll get married. We have to believe that. I was already thinking about asking if I can come back with you to Ilirea after we finish up here, instead of going back to the Isle. May I? Would that make any difference?"

Lena smiled and nodded against him. "Yes, love," she whispered. "As long as I can be with you, it makes things better."

"Oh, Lena," Will pleaded. "Please be happy, honey. Not only can I clearly see how upset you are, but my ring is also burning my chest."

Will's comment served to momentarily disrupt Lena's morose mood. "That reminds me!" she cried. "I've been meaning to ask you this."

"What's that?" Will wondered.

"About our rings," she began. "You already told me they would continue to draw toward each other even if we weren't both wearing them. But how do they _feel_ when one or the other of us isn't wearing them? I know when you are wearing yours, it feels uncomfortably cold if you're in pain and uncomfortably hot if you're emotionally unwell. And when you're fine, it just feels comfortable, like my skin temperature."

"Shall we perform an experiment?" Will proposed. "I'll take mine off and you can tell me if that changes anything. Then we'll switch."

"Yes," Lena said. So Will hopped off the root and walked several yards away, pulling on the chain around his neck as he went. He removed it over his head and hung it on a knot in a neighboring root then returned to Lena's side.

"Any difference?" Will asked.

"How interesting," Lena mused. She had withdrawn the chain upon which her ring hung and was holding the band in her right hand. "It _does_ feel different, but it's hard to explain. I think you'll see what I mean on your turn. It feels cooler, like a piece of metal sitting by itself. But more than that, it almost seems dead. Because when yours is near you, mine is always a comfortably warm temperature. Now it feels lifeless, though it certainly still draws toward yours." She relaxed her hand on her lap and without performing any conscious movement, it began to slowly lift in the direction of Will's ring.

"I'll take yours and trade it out for mine then come back over here so I can see for myself," Will said. Lena gave him her ring so he could do as he suggested.

Once he was back in front of Lena, holding his own ring, Will said, "Yes, I see exactly what you mean. It's a different kind of cold than the physical pain cold, which is like a sudden freezing chill. But this is a dull, lifeless metal feeling, just as you described."

"Thank you for doing that, love," Lena said after Will had retrieved her ring and given it back. "Perhaps it will be useful knowing that."

Will put his hands around her waist and lifted Lena down from the root. "But let's not get depressed again," he pleaded. "Would you care for a dance, my lady?"

"Only if it can begin and end with a kiss," Lena stipulated. "That's another fun experiment."

"Yes, indeed," Will fervently agreed, lowering his face enough to kiss Lena so they could begin their dance, which was confined to a rather small area between the closely growing roots. "I'm glad we inadvertently discovered that gem of knowledge before getting married. At least it's something we can do right now."

Lena nodded her head where it was resting against Will's chest. "Though the downside is that it makes that sort of longing so much stronger," she mourned. "And therefore makes me that much more impatient to get married."

"I know," Will agreed in the same lamenting tone. "I _am_ the part Urgal here. And I can feel that Urgal blood in me calling for more."

Lena breathed a soft laugh but said no more, content to simply dance with the man she loved, hoping all would work out as he reassuringly predicted.

-:-:-:-


	33. The Playful Pairs

**33\. The Playful Pairs**

While Rhunön was busy crafting the twins' swords and armor, the others found plenty to do to stay busy. As promised, Ajh took every opportunity he could to learn the various methods of preparing a plant-based diet from the strictly herbivorous elves. Most of the Riders and their siblings ate no animal flesh, and since there was considerable evidence that at least nine of them would be spending an extended length of time at sea, Ajh wanted to have many options for continuing their preferred eating habits.

He found that Hanna became a frequent and welcome companion during these lessons. Hanna also had an extensive knowledge of plants, since she had learned how to use their many different properties in the healing arts. She was the first to suggest that Ajh try dehydrating the many plants they often ate as part of their regular diets.

As they were rummaging through the forest one afternoon, Hanna pulled a small sprig of dried herb out of her pouch and held it up on display. "Many plants are more potent when fresh, but many others are just as valuable when dried. With some plants, one can extract the healing properties in liquid form. I have many like that. Lavender is soothing. Lemon is cleansing. Cinnamon is warming, has a numbing effect, and kills disease. The healing properties of plants are amazing."

"You don't say," Ajh said with a kind smile. "I actually agree. Attention to good nutrition is irreplaceable in vibrant health. Most people don't realize how far a plant-based diet goes in actually preventing all types of illness."

Hanna returned the smile and said, "Exactly! And drying plants may be one way to help you preserve them. If they're dehydrated at a low enough heat, all of the beneficial nutritional properties remain intact. Many of the dried plants can then be ground into powder so they take up far less room than their fresh counterparts. I will often make them into poultices or pastes to apply to wounds or bruises, but a supply of spinach powder might go a long way in ensuring that everyone gets the necessary nutrients they need."

"A mah-velous idea, sugar," Ajh easily drawled.

Hanna blushed and giggled. "I love it when you talk like that," she admitted.

"Do you now?" Ajh said in surprise. "Why, thank ya. I wish I sounded like Chef—that's what we all call him, just Chef—but I'm not quite there."

"Well, it's charming," Hanna informed him.

"I say thank ya again, milady," Ajh said with a teasing bow. "So dehydrating is one option. I would imagine that some plants might rehydrate quite nicely, whereas others would never regain their original glory. Is that about right?"

Hanna nodded. "Yes, that sounds about right."

"But having dried fruits and such would be a nice treat. They're much sweeter without all of the water."

"Mm-hmm," Hanna agreed. "Have you had any other ideas?"

"Actually, yes. I know we'll have plenty of dry grains and beans, so that will be good as a source of both protein and fiber, but I have pondered the dilemma of fresh greens and I think I learned of a possible solution. The elves taught me about soaking and sprouting grains and beans. They will grow little sprouts, and if properly tended, they will actually also grow green shoots. They're bursting with nutrients and tender but slightly crisp. Everything a pot of chili or cracked wheat just isn't." Hanna giggled, and Ajh grinned. "They just might do the trick."

"Clever," Hanna said. "Do you think you could come up with some type of concentrated snack for me that actually tastes good? To help me regain strength after a long magical effort? The elves have some that I almost have to choke down, they're so dry and bland. They are effective but disgusting, quite frankly."

Ajh chuckled. "I'm sure I could come up with something, milady. Are you opposed to consuming honey? I know some strict herbivores won't eat any food derived from an animal. Or insect, as the case may be."

"I have no problem with it," Hanna assured him, smiling in amusement.

"With a challenge such as that from one so lovely," Ajh said with a droll smile, "'I'm itchin' to get in the kitchen,' as Chef would say. Would you like to accompany me?"

"But of course!" Hanna said. "Nothing like seeing a master at work."

Ajh bowed graciously and extended his arm in a gesture of teasing gallantry. She accepted in like manner, and they headed off to the kitchen area of Tialdarí Hall to begin yet more experiments.

-:-:-

Meanwhile, Keeta spent most of the time waiting for her turn with Rhunön by continuing Gerik's training, since Brom, Var, and Will were so wrapped up in courting the girls they loved. Nefin informed her that there was an ongoing tradition among the elves to train new Dragon Riders on the Crags of Tel'naeír and suggested she could use the location if she wanted to.

Keeta worried the elves might not favor the idea of two _dwarven_ Riders using Oromis' old hut, but Nefin assured her it wouldn't be a problem. He casually added, as if it was an afterthought, that he would be willing to come along, if having an elf there made some sort of difference in Keeta's mind.

Keeta grinned at this offer and obviously invited Nefin to come if he wanted, though she reassured him that he needn't worry about her.

To this Nefin responded that he wasn't concerned about Keeta, but Gerik, who seemed ever more enamored of the kind and cheerful dwarven lass, though he never brought it up.

The two were walking along a sun-dappled path through Ellesméra during this conversation. After Nefin's confession, Keeta lightly teased, "Don't tell me you're actually getting jealous, Nefin-elda."

Nefin chuckled. "Back to that, are we? Well then, no Keeta Svit-kona. Not _getting_ jealous. Already there."

"Really?" Keeta disbelievingly exclaimed. "Gerik is just a really good friend. We've known each other forever. Well, as long as we've been alive might be more accurate."

"And we both know that's a recipe for disaster, if Brom, Var, and Will are anything to judge by," Nefin reminded her. "Besides, that's _not_ the way _he_ feels."

"Well, I've told him I'm not exactly available," Keeta replied. "So whatever you seem to be observing is happening without my encouragement and after fair warning."

"You don't have to even try to encourage someone. It's in the way that you don't try at all. You're just you. Kind, smart, witty, practical."

"Please, Nefin," Keeta objected, blushing faintly. In an effort to steer the conversation away from praise of herself, Keeta hearkened back to something Nefin had said a moment earlier. "You would categorize falling in love with an old friend as a disaster?" she playfully asked.

"I don't know," Nefin vaguely said.

" _We_ are old friends too, Nefin," Keeta patiently said. "Doesn't seem to matter though."

"Doesn't it?" Nefin rejoined.

Keeta rolled her eyes, laughing. "You're being such a girl right now. Not saying what you really mean. Being vague and confusing. Isn't that _my_ job?"

Nefin laughed. "Sorry."

"No matter, Nefin," Keeta dismissed. "How's tracking?"

"Fun!" Nefin said with undeniable enthusiasm. "I've come up with a new challenge."

"What's that?" Keeta dutifully asked when he paused dramatically, obviously giving her time for a rapturous response.

"Tracking underwater," he slowly uttered with exaggerated solemnity.

Keeta giggled at his silly manner. "Underwater, huh? That does sound challenging."

"I can't smell anything, unless I want a lungful of water. Sometimes, depending on where I am, I can't see much. I haven't been doing very well. Hard to track prey I can't hear, see, or smell. And those fish are _fast!_ "

Keeta laughed again. "Finally something Nefin the Notorious can't track. Well, at least you found a challenge. Seems nothing can evade you on land or in the sky."

Nefin nodded distractedly. "'Nefin the Notorious,'" he dubiously repeated. "Where did you hear that?"

Keeta tapped her temple. "Right in here, silly. I just made it up."

"So I'm not really notorious?"

Keeta shook her head with the same teasing solemnity he had used. "Not to me. But some of these elven women might wish there was a little more notoriety to you. With your perfect and total uprightness, there's no way they will ever get what they want."

Nefin comically creased his eyebrows. "What are you talking about, Keeta?" he said in a tone of denial.

"You're so blind to what you don't want to see," Keeta said with a rueful laugh. "They're crazy about you, Nefin. And they wish you were like other male elves, who might willingly join with their gorgeous bodies just for the experience of it. No strings attached. Live for the moment. It's all about the pleasure. You know, all of the things our parents never let us believe for even half a second. But I guarantee you that at least six female elves have their eyes on you right now. Young, strapping, gorgeous male Dragon Rider. Quite the appeal you have."

Nefin incredulously shook his head. "No way. I'd have noticed. I notice everything."

"When you want to," Keeta easily agreed. "But not when you don't. You seem to be just the opposite of Brin in this regard. Female attention is definitely unflattering and unwelcome to you, so you simply act like it's not there."

Nefin snorted. "I'll believe it when I see it."

"There's a sound philosophy," Keeta sarcastically mocked. "If that's not an invitation for one of them to attack you, I don't know what is. Probably the silver-haired, gray-eyed beauty. Alanna, right? She's the most infatuated by a long shot. And probably at least twenty years older."

Nefin seemed desperate to change the subject, so he suddenly did. "Keeta, will you come tracking with me sometime?"

"Good one," Keeta dryly said. "Short, blundering dwarf girl along for the hunt with the agile, stealthy expert tracker of the world."

"You know how to be quiet," Nefin disagreed. "I'll carry you on my back. I can still run just as fast that way. I want to teach you. Or maybe I just want to spend more time with you and this is my awkward way of asking."

Keeta grinned. "We could just have a picnic or something. Then I wouldn't feel like an idiot hanging onto your back for dear life as you sprint through the forest at breakneck speed."

Nefin grinned back. "That sounds good too. But we can still go on a walk after so I can show you how I see the forest. While you do an excellent job of pretending to be interested, like you always do."

"I'm actually always _really_ interested, Nefin. But I'm smart and practical enough not to fawn all over you, since I would be right back to being completely ignored by you."

Nefin grimaced at her accurate portrayal. "You have never fawned over me, Keeta," he insisted. "And I'm the idiot for ever ignoring you. Shall we say picnic tomorrow for lunch?"

Keeta shrugged casually in an effort to mask her growing excitement, hoping Nefin wouldn't hear how her heart had begun pounding in its familiar way. "Sure. When and where?"

"Meet me in the clearing by the river," Nefin said. "Do you know the one I mean, just outside the city?" Keeta nodded. "At noon," he added. "I'll bring everything. You just show up."

"I will," Keeta promised.

-:-:-:-


	34. Drama

**A/N:** This chapter contains a mature and forced sexual interaction. Maybe it would be considered "magically induced" rape. The offender is not ultimately successful, but I know this can be a very sensitive subject. I'm sorry to give things away, but a thoughtful reader suggested I be more explicit in my warnings where this subject is present. Please skip if you strongly object to anything of that nature or are a younger reader. That actual scene begins after the third -:-:-, so you can read up until Keeta's point of view for plot purposes then move on. Thanks.

* * *

 **34\. Drama**

The rest of that day and the next morning, Nefin felt like he was soaring on Arget, though he never actually did fly with his dragon. He was simply excited for what felt like his first official date with Keeta. He had their lunch, with some valuable help from Ajh, prepared almost as soon as breakfast was over. After breakfast, Keeta headed off with Gerik for more training, and Nefin shot a frustrated glare at Brom, Var, and Will for neglecting their duty to help continue Gerik's training. They were all completely oblivious to his irritated look, of course.

And could Nefin blame them? Now all he seemed able to think about was spending time with Keeta. His consolation was that from lunchtime on, he would get the rest of the day with her.

Since Rhunön was still working on Ajh's sword and armor, Nefin decided to pass the rest of the hours of the morning attempting to track underwater. He took the needful supplies for that day's picnic to the meeting location then stripped off his shirt, boots, and socks and dove into the river.

-:-:-

While Nefin was gone, someone arrived to wait for him, and it wasn't Keeta. This newcomer had just so happened—and not by accident—to overhear the important conversation that had taken place between Keeta and Nefin the day before, and she could not _believe_ the idea that such a short little dwarven girl might _ever_ presume to fancy the beautiful perfection embodied in Nefin the Dragon Rider.

What irked the uninvited visitor even more was the insolent girl's casual—almost teasing—reference to her as the silver-haired, gray-eyed beauty who was most likely twenty years older than Nefin and more infatuated with him than any of the others. She supposed she resented it so much simply because it was true and she had failed to hide it. She wished Nefin had noticed her regard, not the dwarf.

But she was determined to have him, no matter that she truly was many years older. She didn't _look_ any older than Nefin. And no dwarf girl deserved his affection, no matter how witty, kind, or smart.

So the intruder sat with her back to a tree, facing away from the river so Nefin wouldn't immediately see her when he returned. She had taken measures to ensure her success today, and her secret wish was that the dwarf girl would arrive just in time to see her triumph.

-:-:-

Nefin emerged from the water fifteen minutes before he expected Keeta to meet him. He wanted to dry off, get dressed, and have time to set out the picnic before then. He ran his hands through his hair and began saying the spell that would remove all of the water from his body when his sharp eye fell on a cascade of shimmering hair at the base of a nearby tree.

Nefin's heart skipped a beat as he first thought Keeta had shown up early and that she might see him like this. Then he realized the shimmer was silver, not gold, and the person was sitting, not standing. She stood in a fluid motion, turning toward him.

Nefin's heart sank. _Not now,_ he thought. In the same moment, he remembered what he had told Keeta the day before, _I'll believe it when I see it,_ and her sarcastic reply, _If that's not an invitation for one of them to attack you, I don't know what is._ Had he doomed himself? This certainly had the feel of a calculated ambush.

Nefin felt a dread certainty that Alanna had heard that entire conversation. _And she's the one Keeta said was the most smitten,_ he realized with a building sense of panic.

Nefin's eyes widened, and he took a step back as Alanna, the stunningly gorgeous elf standing before him, smiled seductively and advanced in his direction. "Hi, Nefin," she purred.

"Alanna," he curtly acknowledged. "I'm planning on meeting someone. She'll be here soon."

"I hope so," Alanna said in the same infuriating tone. Nefin felt a flare of anger that Alanna apparently _wanted_ Keeta to see whatever she had planned.

"Please go," Nefin coldly said.

Alanna slowly shook her head and swept her eyes up his body, bold admiration on her face, while continuing her measured march toward him. Nefin took another step back, stopping when he splashed into the river.

"So beautiful," Alanna breathed, though Nefin easily heard. "Sculpted, tall, powerful." Her eyes stopped on his face. "Perfection itself. I want you, Nefin."

"I _don't_ feel the same," Nefin firmly said. She was getting closer. Should he just escape back into the water? He _should_ have, but he thought about Keeta arriving to find only Alanna, and his hesitation cost him the opportunity.

"You will," Alanna confidently assured, taking another step toward him.

When the smell surrounding her hit him, Nefin cursed himself for not noticing sooner—soon enough that he could do something about it. _What kind of tracker are you if you can't smell_ that _from a mile away!_ Nefin wildly thought as the cloying, clawing scent of her love potion began clouding his senses, erasing his will and reason.

Now all he could think was, _Why resist? She_ is _the most beautiful creature you have ever seen. And she just professed her desire for you._ Nefin tried desperately to fight it, clenched every muscle in his body against the inevitable step back in Alanna's direction, but to no avail. He _did_ take the step. And then another.

Alanna smiled knowingly, invitingly, and then they were touching. That was the end of Nefin's willful resistance. Alanna appreciatively slid her hands up his bare chest, around his neck, into his wet hair at the same time his arms cinched decisively around her waist. He thought he was drowning in the pools of her amazing, wide, gray eyes before they closed and she was kissing him.

And did he ever kiss back. Ah, she was so beautiful and perfect! Tall, slender, strong. She tasted amazing. She smelled heavenly. _This_ was what he wanted. Not a short, small dwarf girl. Nefin suddenly felt an impatient irritation at the barrier Alanna's thin shirt was creating between them.

He reached his hands under it and began lifting as he slid his hands along the silky surface of her bare skin. She murmured approvingly, always inviting and encouraging. The small part of Nefin's mind that was screaming at him to stop because none of this was really _him_ continued to shrink under the effect of Alanna's love spell, growing weaker and fainter in the face of the irresistible temptation in his arms.

-:-:-

Keeta tried not to rush to the appointed place so she wouldn't arrive early and seem overly eager. To keep herself from doing just that, she hummed a slow song and forced herself to keep pace with the rhythm. Nefin had asked her to have a picnic with him! Well, it had actually been her idea, but he _had_ confessed that he wanted to spend more time with her and that he was already jealous of Gerik.

Keeta smiled a little incredulously. _Oh, Nefin,_ she thought. _If you only knew how completely I belong to you, you would never feel a moment's insecurity again._ Keeta decided that she needed to remind Brom, Var, and Will of their promise to help her continue Gerik's training. She was fully aware of Gerik's growing affection, though he carefully tried to regulate it. And if Nefin really did want to spend more time with her, having the males take their turn overseeing Gerik's training would only help everyone concerned.

With these cheerful thoughts on her mind, Keeta nearly skipped into the clearing where Nefin had asked her to meet him. Then she stopped dead in her tracks, almost stumbling over nothing at what awaited her.

She simply gaped in silent shock for about five seconds. Then she began to _demand_ that she turn around and leave. But she couldn't because her heart was shattering in her chest and she was forgetting how to breathe. Tears sprang unbidden to her eyes, and she couldn't even think to blink them away or stop them.

Had Nefin invited her here to see _this?_ Not only was he _kissing_ the beautiful, silver-haired Alanna, he was practically making love to her.

 _Are they already?_ Keeta wondered in numb, disbelieving denial. No, not yet. But they would be soon. His chest was bare, hers was. He was kneeling with her straddling his lap, and oh how they were pressing into one another and touching—no, fondling—each other. But their pants were still on. For now.

The way they _sounded_ reached Keeta's ears over the carefree gurgle of the river, which noise seemed almost mocking in light of what Keeta was unintentionally observing. At that moment, Alanna dragged her hands down Nefin's body toward his waist, shoving them between their tightly touching bodies with eager insistence. Keeta would have sworn the woman _knew_ she had just arrived and was enhancing her performance strictly for Keeta's sake.

Nefin grunted at this new touch and seemed to reach an entirely new depth of passion. His mouth moved away from Alanna's and began descending down her bare skin. Along her throat. Across her collarbone. Then down. Alanna encouraged him with breathless, enthusiastic sounds of delight the closer his mouth got to the flawless part of her body where his hands were greedily caressing.

Keeta shook her head. She couldn't watch this anymore. _Wouldn't._ There was no question in her mind that Nefin desperately wanted Alanna. She couldn't believe he would do this before getting married, since all of the senior Dragon Riders' children had learned the same lessons when it came to intimate love. But he was nevertheless preparing to and she needed to leave them alone.

 _Leave, Keeta,_ she begged herself. _He's not yours. He never said that. Are you really surprised he would want such a fabulously perfect female? Just leave. He will never love you like that. Never_ want _you like that._ She was a little surprised Nefin hadn't heard or seen her yet, and then she wasn't. He was wholly enthralled by the woman in his arms, on his lap . . . in his mouth.

A heartbroken sob escaped Keeta's lips before she could clap her hand over her mouth and turn around. As she began to blunder away, she frantically thought, _Lightning! Come get me! Please hurry!_

If there was any chance Nefin had sensed she was there and came after her, she had no hope of outdistancing him without her dragon. And she couldn't face Nefin right now. Maybe not ever again.

-:-:-

Somehow Keeta's desperate sob reached Nefin's awareness through the magically induced haze in his mind. And he could _feel_ how crushed she was, totally and completely. He jerked away from Alanna's body, grabbing her wrists to stop her hands.

"Enough," he spat, her taste and touch suddenly poison to him. "Is _that_ what you wanted? To break the heart of the sweetest girl I know?" He unceremoniously slid her off his lap, shuddering at the look of her perfect bare chest—still wet in places from his mouth—which had seemed so enticing under the thrall of her love potion.

"You are hideous to me," he said in an icy tone. "Selfish and cruel. Do not _ever_ try something like that again."

Without looking back, Nefin stood and strode after Keeta. He heard her stumbling ahead of him, and his heart constricted. He rubbed his hands over his face, across his mouth, down his chest, trying to wipe away the taste and feel and memory of Alanna from his body. He was sure Keeta had seen that, precisely as Alanna hoped. And how must it have looked to her? Like he wanted more than anything to make love to the elven woman whose only hold on him had been magical.

"Keeta!" he anxiously called. "Wait!"

-:-:-

Keeta's finally _did_ stumble when Nefin called out for her. _And now I'm waiting,_ she bitterly thought as she hit her knees. _Whether I want to or not._ She hung her head and sobbed. There was no point in trying to get up. Nefin would be there in seconds. _Lightning! Where are you?_

 _Coming, Keeta!_ came her dragon's worried reply. _What happened?_

 _You'll know soon enough,_ Keeta absently responded, trying to distance herself from what she had just seen so she wouldn't seem like a blubbering idiot when Nefin came. _He's not yours. Never was. Act like it was nothing, just a misunderstanding._ She halfheartedly wiped her cheeks but knew she would never be able to hide her tears.

Then Nefin was there, kneeling in front of her. He took over wiping her cheeks as Keeta's hands dropped back to her lap.

"Sorry I happened upon you like that," Keeta blurted. "I must have misunderstood yesterday. You can go back."

Nefin shook his head and gently lifted her chin. "No, Keeta," he said. " _I_ am sorry. So sorry. I can't even begin to say how sorry. You didn't misunderstand. I wanted to meet and spend time with you today more than anything else. Alanna overheard our conversation yesterday and decided to interfere. She created a love potion type of spell and surrounded herself with it. All it took was for me to smell it. I'm sorry I was so careless and that I couldn't resist better. Keeta, I'm so sorry. Oh, I'm so sorry for how I have hurt you." He stroked her cheek with his other hand, trying in vain to clear away the new tears streaming down her cheeks.

Though Nefin held her chin up so he could see her face, Keeta was staring blankly through him.

"Please, Keeta. Say something."

She blinked. Lightning was almost there. She just had to say something long enough to fill the time. "I don't know what to say, Nefin," Keeta at last admitted in a dull voice. "I hope what you're saying is true because then I might be able to believe you didn't want that as much as it _looked_ like you did. But it will be hard to forget." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Really hard, Nefin. I can't imagine you ever wanting _me_ like that. It just reminded me of what I've known all along and stubbornly tried to ignore. We don't belong together. We're not a good fit physically. I'll try to get over you so you can be with someone you deserve. And desire."

Nefin opened his mouth like he would object, but Keeta staggered to her feet at the sound of her dragon's wings. "I want to be alone for a while," she told Nefin without looking at him. "Please don't follow me."

Then she went to Lightning and climbed almost blindly to his back. He wasn't saddled, so Keeta tightly grasped his lowest neck spike in both hands and leaned her forehead onto her clenched fists, sobbing harder than ever.

 _Just take me away from here,_ she begged her dragon. _Far away._ Then she opened her mind to him so he could read the answers to his questions in her thoughts and memories. Keeta separated herself from it as best she could, but she still felt the fresh agony as she relived the memory of Nefin with the beautiful elf in his arms yet again and saw him loving Alanna in a way Keeta felt sure he would never love her _._

-:-:-

Nefin watched Keeta make her way to her dragon, saw how she slumped over, noticed her tears streaming to his scales below her face. _Keeta,_ he mourned. _Please believe me, sweet Keeta. I love_ you. _You. And now that I know that, it might be too late. Why did it take this,_ this _drama, to wake me up to the truth? I'll never deserve you. What a fool I am!_

The despairing tears that had begun to fill his eyes as he witnessed Keeta's suffering abruptly disappeared under an overpowering wave of anger and self-loathing. He sprang to his feet and began running as fast as he could, desperate to escape the suffocating weight of his regret.

-:-:-

Alanna saw this unfold from behind a tree, in the same way she had eavesdropped the previous day. Things hadn't gone quite as she hoped. It would have been better if Nefin had made love to her. How close she had been! She was sure she would never forget the feel of his lips, hands, and body—how longing, insistent, and strong they were.

A small part of her brain kept trying to remind her that _all_ of it had been contrived. Nefin didn't really want her. He had told her so in a cold voice just before her potion and spell took effect. But the thought that he might want a _dwarf_ was still so inconceivable to Alanna that she congratulated herself on at least succeeding in dashing whatever feeble hope the girl might have entertained by setting up her farce to take place right in front of her eyes.

After donning her shirt, Alanna strolled into the forest with a cruel, victorious smile on her perfect mouth.

-:-:-:-


	35. Best Friend's Concern

**35\. Best Friend's Concern**

When neither Keeta nor Nefin returned for dinner that evening, none of their companions was concerned. They all knew of the picnic plans and assumed they had extended to include the evening meal as well.

But when Keeta and Nefin _still_ hadn't returned by breakfast the following morning, and neither Brin nor Hanna knew why, the others began to worry.

Brin offered to have her dragon Sunburst try to reach Lightning and promised she would report back on any discoveries at lunchtime.

So after breakfast, instead of spending the day with Brom at Rhunön's atrium, Brin asked her dragon to meet her. Brin quickly explained, _Keeta and Nefin have been gone since yesterday afternoon. When they didn't show up for breakfast, we all began to wonder why. Can you sense Lightning?_

Brin and Keeta's dragons were siblings and very close friends. _I will try, Brin,_ Sunburst said. A few moments later, Sunburst relayed this message in an anxious tone, _Lightning flew her to the Stone of Broken Eggs after something went terribly wrong with her picnic plans. Keeta does not want to return, but she is hungry. Lightning said she is listless, and he is worried about her. He suggested we come, though Keeta does not know that._

 _I'm going to get some food packed. Should we take anything else?_ Brin asked, already walking back toward the kitchens.

 _Lightning's saddle,_ her dragon replied _. Keeta was so desperate to get away that he flew to her rescue just as he was._

Brin worriedly considered this. What could have happened? Keeta had been so excited for her picnic with Nefin. And then she had suddenly run away? Desperately?

Within ten minutes they were ready to go. Brin conveyed a hurried mental message to Brom, telling him not to worry until she knew what was going on.

The flight to the Stone of Broken Eggs only took about twenty minutes. Sunburst carried the extra saddle dangling from her talons. Once they arrived, it didn't take long to find Lightning and Keeta. They were huddled in a cave gouged out of one of the craggy towers atop the monolith. Sunburst landed in the opening of the cave, and Brin dismounted.

"Keeta?" she called. Brin couldn't see Keeta and guessed she might be hidden under one of her dragon's wings.

As if sensing her thoughts, Lightning lifted his right wing and revealed a small, curled up shape.

Brin almost ran forward, but she stopped, quickly climbed Sunburst's leg long enough to open the saddlebags, and grabbed some of the food and water she had packed for Keeta. With her arms full, Brin hurried to her friend's side.

"Keeta," she softly said. "Keeta, it's Brin. What's wrong, sweetie?"

Keeta weakly lifted her head off her arms and stared up at Brin out of dull, bloodshot, puffy eyes. Her lips were dry and her cheeks pale.

"Have a drink," Brin suggested, holding out the water skin.

Keeta wordlessly accepted it and drank for several seconds. When done, she lowered it to her lap and continued gazing through Brin without acknowledging her.

"What happened, Keeta?" Brin asked. "When you didn't show up for breakfast, everyone began to worry. Are you hurt?"

Keeta nodded. She seemed to notice Brin's anxious look, so she finally said, "Not physically. Just emotionally. I needed time to be alone before trying to face anyone. In fact, I'm thinking it might be best if Lightning and I just return to the Isle right now since you brought his saddle."

"But your axe, Keeta!" Brin exclaimed. "What happened! Tell me!"

Keeta didn't appear to be ready for that, so she responded to the first part of Brin's objection. "I already know Rhunön can't use me to forge my weapon. I'm too small." She shuddered at this simple statement as if it brought to mind an unpleasant memory. "I was going to ask you to do it for me. Will you? I can't go back, Brin. I just don't know how I'll be able to pretend everything is fine. And Rhunön has already taken my measurements, for both the axe and the armor. I don't think it will really matter if I'm gone. Plus, Arûna should be big enough to fly with Gerik by the time everything there is finished up. It's high time Brom, Var, and Will take a turn overseeing his training anyway."

Brin reached out and took her friend's hand. "Keeta, what happened? It's not like you to act this way."

Keeta's eyes filled with tears, and they spilled onto her cheeks. Brin immediately knew they had been preceded by countless others. "I don't think I can relive it," she whispered. "It's too painful. Even though it was all just a spell. He was bewitched, but I will never be able to forget what it was like to see him with her. _Loving_ her." She lowered her head, and the tears turned to sobs.

A cold dread spread inside Brin. Keeta's vague speech had given her only the slightest idea of what might have happened, but her imagination was filling in the gaps with ruthless rapidity. Brin looked helplessly up at Lightning, speaking to his mind so Keeta wouldn't hear her. _Do you know? Will you show me?_

The dragon sadly dipped his head and began playing images in Brin's mind as they had been shared with him. Brin tried to prepare herself for something shocking, but even so, she couldn't keep herself from gasping softly at Keeta's memories of Nefin and Alanna in the clearing the previous day. How much he seemed to want her. How hungry his hands and lips looked, how greedily he explored her body with them. His passionate sounds of longing and pleasure. Lightning showed her everything as Keeta remembered it, right up until she had climbed on his back, so Brin also heard Nefin's explanation.

Brin's growing indignation was somewhat appeased by Nefin's apology, and she tended to believe he really had been acting under the effects of a spell because Nefin would never do something like that otherwise. Especially not with Hanin as his father. But Brin still knew why Keeta was so utterly devastated. Spell or not, she had seen Nefin with a woman in his arms who was everything she wasn't—tall, gorgeous, fast, agile—and she had felt a crushing hopelessness that Nefin would never be attracted to her in the way he _appeared_ to be attracted to the elf.

Brin couldn't help but feel the same. Nefin's behavior had clearly communicated a passionate desire for Alanna, and though his words had been of apology and regret, his actions had spoken the loudest.

Keeta must have guessed what was going on between Brin and Lightning. "I know it wasn't his fault, Brin," she whispered. "The day before, he was completely shocked when I informed him that so many female elves were smitten with him. He emphatically denied it. I predicted one of them would just attack him if he continued to insist on such stubborn blindness." A bleak smile appeared on her face like a grimace. "Guess my prophecy came true. It's stupid of me to be acting so melodramatic about it. He was never mine. It's none of my business if he wants to enjoy the pleasure of a beautiful female's company."

Brin started shaking her head, but Keeta continued on, ignoring her. "But . . . the first thought through my mind when I entered the clearing was, _Did Nefin invite me here to see_ this _?_ I wondered if he wanted to hurt me. I can't believe I felt that way. He was starting to act like he actually cared for me, even admitted he was jealous of how much time I was spending with Gerik for his training. He told me he wanted to spend more time with me. I guess that's why it was so heartbreaking. Just when my hopes were the highest, they were dashed to the ground in the cruelest way. He told me Alanna heard us planning the picnic and made plans of her own to spoil them. She succeeded. And it only reinforced my deepest insecurity all along, something Alanna no doubt agrees with. As much as I love Nefin, I'm just not a good fit for him as a dwarf."

"Oh, Keeta," Brin lamented. "I'm so sorry. But that's not true. It just isn't true. It doesn't matter how big or tall or small two people are." Brin reached out and enfolded her small friend in her arms. Keeta had loved Nefin—or at least really admired him—for almost three years. And all along she patiently and realistically told herself that he would most likely never return her affection so she might as well just try to be his friend if he would let her. To have him finally begin to return her feelings only to have this happen seemed so unfair to Brin.

And Brin now understood why Keeta simply wanted to leave. When Nefin had never openly admitted to returning her regard, Keeta knew it was ridiculous to be so upset about the incident, but that didn't change the fact that she was. If Keeta returned to Ellesméra, she would either have to pretend nothing was wrong or tell everyone what had happened to explain why she was so miserable, which would put Nefin on the spot and implicate Alanna as a villain. Brin actually thought that seemed fairly just, but Keeta was too sweet and artless to want revenge.

"When do you think you'll leave?" Brin gently asked, stroking Keeta's hair. "I'll make your axe for you and bring it back with your armor."

"Thank you, Brin," Keeta choked out between sobs. "I'll leave from here, probably when you do. I doubt you brought enough food for a two week flight, but Lightning can make it faster if he needs to. And I can stop in Hedarth for supplies."

"Or Sílthrim," Brim helpfully suggested. Keeta nodded mutely. Brin then added, "Try to remember the sincerity of his apology—how Nefin looked when Lightning glanced over at him before taking off with you. He was devastated by how heartbroken you were, Keeta. He _didn't_ want to hurt you, I'm sure of it. It was an accident, a terrible accident. I know why it's affecting you like this, but try to consider forgiving him and letting go in time. I'm sure he'll be ready to move on when you are."

Keeta nodded again. "I already have. And I still love him. I told him I would try to get over him, but I don't think I can. I don't want to. Why can I be sensible and practical about everything else but this? The hardest part of moving on will be forgetting how he _looked_. Desperate for her. Like he would die if he couldn't have her. I know it was fake and that he didn't really feel that way, but now I know he's capable of that depth of passion and it's impossible for me to imagine that he would have consciously and willingly expressing such longing had I been the one in his arms. Maybe Alanna had the right idea. I should get a few tips on effective love potions." She laughed weakly, and the sound stuck in her throat.

"You're amazing, Keeta," Brin encouraged. "And I will stand by what I've said before. If Nefin has any sense, and he seems to be more sensible and intelligent by the day when it comes to this, then he will realize before it's too late what an honor it is that you think so highly of him. What should I tell the others?"

"Whatever you want," Keeta said. "All of it. None of it. That I went home because I miss my family, which is true. They all know how I feel anyway. In such a close-knit group where we have been friends all our lives, it's hard for everyone not to know the most important details of everyone else's lives. It's the same as everyone knowing Brom has loved you forever, or that Var loves Zadí. I guess it would be ridiculous to expect that everything would work out for all of us as easily as it has for Will and Lena. My only request is that Nefin not have to deal with any trouble because of Alanna's guile. He didn't ask for her to interfere."

Brin squeezed her friend's shoulders. "I understand, sweetie. What about on the Isle? Don't you think you'll get some concern and pointed questions there too?"

"I might just lay low for a while. No one expects us to be back for about another month. Actually, they're all counting on us going straight to Ilirea for the Games."

"Brom might suggest a change of plans," Brin said. "Something about having his birthday on the Isle. I hope I'll see you again before the Choosing Ceremony."

"I don't even want to go," Keeta admitted. "It still feels like the last one just barely ended, and I had to be so involved. It was completely exhausting."

"Maybe things will change after a few months on your own and with your family," Brin said. "But if not, I understand. Will you eat while I'm here?"

Keeta shrugged. "Why not?"

So they ate a silent, cheerless meal and not long after, both girls departed the Stone of Broken Eggs. Brin headed back to Ellesméra while Keeta flew for the Isle of the Eldunarí.

-:-:-:-


	36. Nefin the Notorious

**36\. Nefin the Notorious**

Nefin was back by the time Brin returned to Tialdarí Hall. He immediately approached Keeta's best friend. Before he could say anything, Brin spoke.

"She's gone, Nefin," Brin shared. "She flew home to the Isle. I know what happened. She has already forgiven you, but she didn't know how she could pretend nothing was wrong and she didn't want anyone to think badly of you."

Nefin stared unseeingly at Brin. "Thanks," he muttered. "I'll tell the others so you don't have to make up a story." He finally focused his eyes on Brin's face. "Forgiven me, huh? I don't deserve her, Brin. She told me I'm blind to what I don't want to see just seconds before I claimed that I notice everything. But how could I not notice how amazing she is all these years? Because I was intentionally ignoring it, that's how. This has been a hard pill to swallow for one who has always thought his powers of perception were so keen simply because he's such an excellent tracker." He snorted a humorless laugh. "Serves me right. So is it too late for me, do you suppose?"

Brin shook her head in amusement. "No, Nefin. You're right that you don't deserve her. Keep telling yourself that and believing it, and you just might get there. She really loves you, my friend. But she needs some time to try to forget what she saw."

Nefin closed his eyes, his face tightening into a pained grimace. Though he'd had no conscious control over how he had acted under Alanna's enchantment, a cruel twist permitted him to remember his behavior with stark clarity.

Brin sympathetically creased her brow and continued, "Her fear has always been the same, and I'm only telling you this because I know she already has. She thinks she's too small for you, or at least that _you_ think she's too short. And she can't imagine that you would ever truly desire her the same way you seemed to want Alanna."

Nefin ran a hand once through his hair then rubbed his temples in exhaustion. He had been running almost nonstop since Keeta had flown away the day before. "I know," he growled in frustration. "I know that's how she feels, and it's mainly because I _did_ feel that way and must have made it abundantly clear. I'm such an idiot. Such a blasted fool. I'll try to make it up to her." He raised his eyes to Brin's. "Thank you for going and comforting her. I wish I could have, but it will be a long time before she's ready for that. If ever."

Brin raised her hand to his shoulder and squeezed reassuringly. "Go eat, Nefin. You look like you're ready to pass out."

Nefin acknowledged her words with a distracted look and turned to head for the kitchens.

-:-:-

At dinner that evening, Nefin kept his word and told the others what had happened in an emotionless, detached way. He was keenly aware, however, of Gerik's thin-lipped reaction. Apparently it was the first clue Gerik had that Nefin was the person Keeta cared for. And Nefin felt he fully deserved the cold look of disapproval the dwarf gave him. The others simply regarded Nefin pityingly, more fully understanding his predicament since they had more experience with and knowledge of magic and its related uses, such as Alanna's magically enhanced love potion.

By this time, their stay in Ellesméra had lasted nearly a month. All of the young Riders had their weapons forged except Nefin—whose turn was scheduled to happen next—Keeta, and Gerik. The dwarves had agreed to go last, since they assumed they wouldn't be able to serve as Rhunön's proxy in the crafting of their axes. They wanted whoever did it for them to have plenty of time to recover from crafting their own weapon.

Brom broke the uncomfortable silence that hung in the air after Nefin's confession by saying, "We should finish our time here soon. I would like to be on the Isle by my birthday in three weeks, since Angela told me I should expect a gift this year. I feel like I need to be home for that. Nefin, your turn with Rhunön is next. Brin told Keeta she would help crafting her axe. And I'm happy to stand in for Gerik—"

"I'll do it," Nefin cut in. "I want to help Rhunön with Keeta's axe. I can even do Gerik's. We should do his first, then you all can go on back to the Isle while I stay to do my weapon and Keeta's. I want to be alone. I know none of you really blame me for what happened, but I still feel horrible and responsible and know everyone will be walking on eggshells around me anyway."

Brom stared at him for a few moments without speaking. Then he shrugged and said, "If that's what you want. I'm not fond of the idea of members of our group traveling by themselves, but Keeta has already gone. Does anyone object to Nefin's proposal? Gerik?"

The dwarf sat rigidly in his chair. "I'm not sure," he said. "I don't particularly care for the idea of Nefin making my axe, but maybe I need to hear his reason for offering before completely denying it." He fell silent for a brief moment then added, "But not now. May I excuse myself, please?"

"Certainly," Brom said. "Good evening."

Gerik stood and left without saying another word.

Nefin stared at the table while Gerik departed. "I'm going too," he finally muttered. "Didn't sleep at all last night. I'll go to Rhunön's right after breakfast tomorrow. Maybe I should try to talk to Gerik alone. If he still doesn't want my help—and I wouldn't blame him at all—I'll let you know, Brom. Contact your mind."

Brom nodded as Nefin rose. Nefin felt the weight of their combined stare on him as he left the dining hall and headed for his room.

* * *

 **A/N:** I'm going to reduce the number of A/Ns I leave out of respect for people who might just be starting to read from the beginning. They don't need to see, "Here it is! Enjoy!" at the top of every chapter. And I'll also stop asking for reviews. Y'all know I love them, so leave one if you want, don't if you don't (most of you ;), and we'll carry on as usual. And just a brief reminder, please refrain from using profanity in any reviews you might be inclined to write. If I have the luxury of approving or deleting the review, as is the case when a guest reader reviews, I will not approve any with cuss words. Thanks a million! :)


	37. Rhunön's Assistant

**37\. Rhunön's Assistant**

Breakfast the next morning was nothing like the lively affair the group was used to. After he finished eating, Nefin stood and asked Gerik if he would walk with him to Rhunön's.

Gerik reluctantly agreed, joining Nefin after clearing his place at the table. Nefin didn't waste any time, as he was sure Gerik wouldn't appreciate walking in silence next to him.

"Gerik, I'm really sorry about what happened. I accept full responsibility. I know how much you care for Keeta and that you're just as worried about her being alone as I am." He sighed and glanced down at the dwarf, who stonily stared ahead.

Nefin continued, "I have no clue why she started fancying me—"

Gerik snorted and bitterly interrupted, "Because you're as pretty as every other elf?"

Nefin grimaced. "I can't help the way I look. Well, I could, but unlike some elves, I haven't done anything to change my appearance. Besides, I don't know if that's it. Keeta has told me she thinks I'm handsome, but we've been friends our whole lives, much like you. I'm sure that opinion only developed more recently. Why would it have mattered when we were younger?"

Gerik muttered something unintelligible, which made Nefin think it really wasn't a coherent word. Otherwise he would have heard. He carried on his previous train of thought with, "I really don't know what she sees in me. Up until last year, I tried to ignore all evidence that suggested she was coming to care for me as more than a friend. Which is why I feel more than ever before how little I really deserve her."

"Got that right," Gerik darkly stated.

"I couldn't agree more. But in Tronjheim I . . . I changed my mind, I guess. And started to realize what an honor it is to have Keeta fancy me."

Nefin took a deep breath. "I'll just get right to the point. I know how little you want to be hearing this right now. If Keeta ever gets to a place of being able to forgive me and move on, I'm going to pursue her. I love her, and I'm sure it rankles you to no end to hear that. But this is what I really want to say. If she never gets to that point, and I don't expect her to, then I would leave her alone. And I hope if that happens that she would choose you. From what I have been able to learn and see, you're a very good man, a good friend to Keeta, and sensible and wise. And you've never hurt her. There's no question in my mind that you would take care of her and make her happy."

"Thank you for your blessing, Master Elf," Gerik sarcastically mocked. "I already knew all that."

Nefin didn't look down. He knew Gerik wasn't looking at him. "I guess all I would ask is that if, by some miracle, Keeta did choose me, you would give me . . . her . . . us. . . . That you would be favorable to it in the same way I'm promising to be."

"I'm not making any promises," Gerik retorted.

"Fine. But please be open to it. For some unknown reason, Keeta eventually saw something in me worthy of admiring. Maybe it's really there. Maybe we could learn to be friends too. You and I. We already know we have some big things in common. Our order and calling as Dragon Riders, for one. Our love for Keeta, for another. We both want her to be happy. And she would surely prefer for us to get along, rather than constantly be at odds or competing over her."

"Have you ever heard of a single successful relationship between an elf and dwarf?" Gerik asked with a healthy dose of skepticism. "Or _any_ romantic relationship, for that matter?"

"Only one. The woman we all talk about who visits us in our birthday dreams—Angela—her parents were a male dwarf and female elf." He looked down in time to notice Gerik's eyes narrowing suspiciously.

"That's . . . hard . . . to believe."

"Yes, it is," Nefin allowed. "But true nonetheless. I'll tell you their story, if you would like."

"Maybe another time," Gerik said, and Nefin noticed that he was trying to suppress his curiosity. "But I'm interested in all that birthday dream stuff. If you ten are all being prepared to face something big, would any of the other Dragon Riders be able to help? Your group seems really exclusive. It's hard to get a foot in."

Nefin smiled mirthlessly. "I can see how it would seem that way. That it probably _is_ that way. I really don't know how to answer your question. We have no idea what this big thing is, so I can't tell you whether any besides us ten will be a part of it."

"Have you ever thought that it all might just be a sham? That nothing big is going to happen, that you're all reading way too much into these dreams you're having?"

Nefin looked down again to make sure Gerik was being sincere. Then, when he saw that was the case, he answered, "No, I don't believe any of us ever has. That all ten of us have each seen Angela in a dream _every year_ on our birthdays for the past almost thirteen years—for the oldest ones—doesn't seem like a coincidence to me. But if you want to believe that, feel free. I'm an elf who has faith and believes in higher powers, unlike the vast majority of my race. The Dragon Riders are accepting of all various spiritual beliefs. Or lack thereof."

"Well, how about a different subject altogether, then?" Gerik said. "Why did you offer to help make my axe?"

Nefin shrugged. "Maybe as a way to kiss up to you," he offered with a slightly more sincere smile. "As a peace offering for running off the girl you care for. I don't know. I want to be active right now. Feel useful. Do anything to take my mind off my stupidity and worry for Keeta. There's actually a really good chance you _will_ be able to serve as Rhunön's proxy for your axe. Like she said, you're really tall for a dwarf. And dwarves are impressively strong. _And_ you're from Dûrgrimst Ingeitum, so you're already familiar with metal works. Rhunön has used other male dwarven Riders in forging their weapons. She has also worked with Kull Urgals, who likewise have a huge discrepancy from her in body size. We can ask her when we get there. Keeta was always just worried she was too small and not strong enough. But I'm really sure I want to help her with Keeta's. I need to do _something_ to try to make up for my mistake."

Gerik nodded curtly to show his understanding. And since they were already making their way through the dogwood tunnel leading into Rhunön's atrium, he said no more.

As it turned out, Rhunön _was_ able to use Gerik to forge his own axe, and they began that morning. Nefin stayed and carried out any tasks the old elf woman needed him to. When not thus occupied, he practiced archery by shooting arrow after arrow into a makeshift target so as not to damage any of Rhunön's precious trees.

Gerik needed a break around lunchtime, and Nefin asked Rhunön if she would put him to work on any job, no matter how small, so he wouldn't have to sit around doing nothing. She promised she would after eating her meal.

Once she had, they started Nefin's bow. Rhunön taught him the fine art of singing an object from wood, which he found both fascinating and satisfying. He could have worked the rest of the day and into the night. But before long, Gerik was more than sufficiently rested and anxious to take up where they had left off with his axe.

The next several days passed in this manner. Gerik would take a turn, followed by Nefin. Whenever they took a break at the same time, Nefin began to tell the story of Angela's parents, Ellei-an and Gelarik.

Gerik didn't have to pretend to be interested. He was captivated by the unusual love story and especially how similar his name was to Gelarik's. He even wondered if there was any way he could be distantly related.

Nefin didn't have any idea about that, but he patiently and honestly answered as many of Gerik's questions as he could. The time the two males spent together became less strained and friendlier by the day, as Nefin also found opportunity to informally continue Gerik's Dragon Rider training with some unique and enlightening input from Rhunön. Each boy was grateful for the promise that they might indeed become friends after all, instead of constant opponents fighting over the same girl.

-:-:-

After Gerik and Rhunön finished his axe, he thanked Nefin for the instruction and company he had provided and left to prepare for his departure with the others.

When Nefin didn't exit Rhunön's atrium with the dwarf, she shrewdly regarded him and gruffly asked, "What's going on, young man?"

Nefin glanced at her in surprise. "I'm staying to finish my bow and arrows. And Keeta's axe." Though he tried not to change his expression when saying Keeta's name, something in his face or eyes must have betrayed him.

"Keeta? Haven't seen her around lately. I thought she would be here with Gerik."

"She left, honored one," Nefin explained, staring at the ground. "Because of me."

"I sensed that something was wrong," Rhunön said in an uncharacteristically gentle voice. "Which is why I asked. What's wrong, Nefin?"

Nefin continued looking down and shrugged uncomfortably. "I don't want to bother you with such petty matters, Rhunön-elda. May we continue our work?"

"They are not petty to you," Rhunön persisted. "And whatever is wrong is continually distracting you while we work on your bow, though you have done an admirable job of keeping any awareness from me."

Nefin slowly let out his breath. Then, in a flat voice, he simply told Rhunön everything that had happened to cause Keeta's departure. When finished, he once again requested, "May we continue our work _now_?"

But Rhunön surprised him by indignantly exclaiming, "Alanna did _that_? Has anyone yet told Däthedr?"

"No, honored one. Keeta didn't want to make a big scene."

"That's because she is a better person than most," Rhunön impatiently dismissed. "But that does not matter, Nefin. Someone must address what Alanna did." She began walking to the trough of water in her forge, presumably to scry someone.

"Please, Rhunön-elda," Nefin begged. "Let's not worry about it."

Rhunön sharply turned toward him. "Nefin, this is a serious matter. You feel awful because of how the situation affected Keeta, and you have admirably accepted responsibility for your actions, but Alanna is to blame and that must be dealt with. Think about how you would feel if her spell had carried you through to the conclusion of her intended outcome. When the effects of her potion wore off, how would you have felt?"

Nefin opened his mouth. Then he closed it and shook his head. He hadn't ever really thought about it. "Even worse," he finally admitted.

"Exactly. What Alanna attempted to compel you to do is deplorable. Sharing intimate love with someone should never be a matter of coercion. It is too precious, Nefin. It is less common for a woman to force a man into such a situation, but Alanna clearly proved that it is possible and her crime is just as serious. Däthedr would want to know. He is not likely to make a big scene, but he will nonetheless speak with her. Though I have never bothered with the excessive elven courtesy displayed by more recent generations, this is weightier than mere decorum."

Nefin agreed with her and therefore made no further objection. Rhunön went to the water and performed the scrying spell. From what Nefin could hear, King Däthedr did indeed sound displeased. He ended the conversation with a promise to confront Alanna about her crime.

"There," Rhunön said. "You need not worry about a huge spectacle. If Alanna is not forthright in her confession, Däthedr can simply ascertain your claims by examining her mind. She knows that and is not likely to lie. Nor would our language allow it." She shook her head, muttering, "Inconceivable. I never would have suspected Alanna capable of such behavior. Outward appearances can be deceiving."

She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders after turning back to Nefin. "We ought to take a short break. Join me in my home for some refreshment." Then she made her way into her tree house.

Nefin followed after a minute, arriving in Rhunön's kitchen to find her preparing a midmorning snack. Rhunön looked up and invited, "Tell me about Keeta."

"Is there anything I can to do help?" Nefin wondered, hoping to postpone or even avoid this conversation that Rhunön seemed intent on engaging him in.

"It's nothing," Rhunön insisted. "Just a small repast. I am almost finished now. Make yourself comfortable and get this off your chest. I would like to hear."

"Really?" Nefin blurted. "I can't understand why. Sorry to be disrespectful, honored one. I simply have a hard time believing that you are truly interested in the pathetic drama of some confused, infatuated youth."

Rhunön's eyes twinkled mysteriously. "Is it so hard for you to imagine that I might perhaps understand?"

Nefin regarded her carefully. He had no desire to give offense, but he truly could not envision a time when Rhunön had been in love. She chuckled gruffly as his long pause spoke for him. Finally he verbally added, "I suppose so, honored one. No offense intended."

"None taken, I assure you," Rhunön promised, making her way to the table where Nefin had seated himself with a tray of colorful plant foods in her hands. "I am over a thousand years old. It is hard for even me to remember the time when I once knew love, but it was there. And it was the sweetest time of my life. Though I pretend to act grumpy and unimpressed whenever any young and happily-in-love couples come calling, it truly is a delight. I felt just the same whenever your parents, Eragon and Arya, and Willow and Varhog kept me company that spring so many years ago. But not that many, when you consider the span of my life. And now here you all are, growing up and falling in love yourselves. Brom was about ready to be born at that time. You weren't even here yet. When one gets to be as old as I, they have an opportunity to witness the cycle of life repeat itself over and over. Yes, I once knew love. And what would you say if you knew the man I loved was a dwarf?"

Nefin did his best to temper his astonishment, but his mouth still fell open unbecomingly. "Really?" he breathed. "I'm surprised, honored one, as I'm sure you can clearly see."

Rhunön chuckled again and served herself a plate. Nefin followed suit and began eating after his hostess had. While they were eating, she began telling her story. She shared that she had first learned her craft from a skilled smith and Grimstborith of Dûrgrimst Ingeitum, a male dwarf by the name of Fûthark. She was young those many centuries ago and so fascinated by the expertise of the strong male dwarf, who could shape any metal into any form he desired.

This was a time almost immemorial to most people's comprehension. There was no enmity between the two races while Rhunön learned the art of blacksmithing, but the dwarves were still as fiercely loyal to their clans as they were in current times. And yet the proud Grimstborith and his eager student, who had perhaps even been fair over a thousand years before—here Rhunön rasped a grating laugh—came to anticipate their lessons together for more than just the opportunity to engage in their mutual interest.

They began to care for one another and then to love. But would Dûrgrimst Ingeitum, Fûthark's clan, have looked favorably upon their esteemed Grimstborith taking an elf maid for his wife? No, indeed. So Rhunön and Fûthark had a secret and forbidden love, which made it seem ever so much more passionate. They considered themselves lawful mates and would have allowed their relationship to be public knowledge had the peoples concerned been open to the idea. Since they never were, no one ever knew that the two great smiths did more in their time together than simply create masterful works of metal.

They never had children, which Rhunön considered a blessing of sorts, for though she and Fûthark enjoyed many long decades together—sometimes in Tronjheim, others in Ellesméra, and according to the longevity of the dwarves—eventually the time came when Fûthark grew old and died. Perhaps their children would have inherited her immortality, but if they had been born destined to grow old and die as their father, Rhunön didn't know how she would have borne it. To lose her one great love was enough. And yet they always considered their creations to be their children, and Rhunön kept her love not only for blacksmithing, but also for her mentor, friend, and husband, alive in the countless works she had created since that time.

Rhunön finished her tale by saying, "Now you know, as no other living creature in the land, how the fabled elf smith Rhunön had a love before her anvil and hammer. And the fact that I remain so dedicated to my craft after numberless years is a tribute to the man who taught me all I know and devotedly worked by my side for so long. After knowing the love of a dwarf smith, no elf was ever attractive to me again. I have always had a soft spot in my heart for the dwarves. That lad who was just here reminded me so of Fûthark, though Gerik is younger than he was when I met him. But they all begin growing those impressive beards so young. No male seems quite as manly in my eyes without one."

Nefin laughed quietly. "I suppose there's no hope for my manliness then, hairless elf that I am and always will be. That was an amazing story, Rhunön. I am truly honored you saw fit to share it with me."

"You were worthy to know, young man. And I think it very sensible indeed that you have fallen in love with a dwarf. You will not find a truer friend or more loyal companion. They are fiercely protective. But merry and cheerful. And you are fortunate, so very fortunate, to know that death will not prematurely separate you from your dear one since she is a Dragon Rider.

"I think it wonderful what the Dragon Riders have done for the land of Alagaёsia. When Willow and Varhog showed up as a married couple, with her expecting his babies, it was the most surprising thing I have ever been exposed to. But look at the good it has reaped. Now the races exist together in greater harmony, friendship, and acceptance than ever before. For members of the various races to join together in love is probably the best legacy the Riders can leave. No two in love should be denied the full joy of their relationship by foolish tradition and prejudice."

Nefin nodded fervently. "Would you still have me tell you about Keeta, honored one? You seem to have guessed far more than I thought I let on."

"Would you extol the virtues of the one you hold dear?" Rhunön asked with a hint of teasing.

"I'm not opposed," Nefin rejoined. So he took his turn and told Rhunön about his lifelong friendship with Keeta. How it had, on his account, become strained in recent years as he began to suspect that her feelings were deepening. How Keeta had continued to be his friend and never acted awkward or different around him. Then Nefin had begun to pay more attention to her in Tronjheim when he noticed all of the dwarf lads admiring her. He recounted his archery lessons with her, how much he had enjoyed spending time with her, how he guessed she also enjoyed it because he frequently heard her heart beat more rapidly or her breath pause suspensefully. He shared that things had seemed to be moving along nicely in Ellesméra—aside from his growing jealousy of Gerik and resentment toward the other males who were supposed to be assisting Keeta with Gerik's training—until the incident with Alanna. Then Keeta had left, which of course was the ironic moment that Nefin knew he loved her.

Rhunön listened closely, kindly regarding Nefin as he finished speaking and his face took on a pained expression. "I now understand better why you want to help me make Keeta's axe. Though technically I could because my oath was simply that I would never forge another Rider's _blade_ again. When I swore that, I was clearly thinking sword blades, not axe blades. There had never been dwarven Riders before then, though it should now come as no surprise to you that I wholeheartedly support the extension. But I find that the Riders take more pride in their weapons when they are able to assist me in the making of them. And I can require of them the oath, which may do some good in preventing the misuse of such powerful instruments. Plus, it's easier on old Rhunön, who is also succumbing to the effects of old age, as all inevitably do. But what would you say to really making Keeta a gift? Something she doesn't expect at all?"

"I would love it," Nefin said.

"You say she excelled rapidly in archery?"

"For the relatively brief time we spent practicing, she progressed quickly indeed. She is an excellent shot when standing still, but she never presumed—that was her word—to try shooting while moving. She's so modest. Too modest, if you ask me, since she is so gifted in so many ways. But she seems to be hung up on what she perceives as her one great weakness—her size—which is something she has no control over."

"Do you think you understand her size and measurements well enough to help me determine the proper size for a bow?" Rhunön asked.

"Yes. I perfectly remember the measurements I made. And how tall she is compared to me. And how long her arms are. Don't you also have measurements for her armor?"

"I do. And I will use them as needed. Shall we finally get back to work? I think we have found another way to keep your hands busy, your mind occupied, and your heart reassured that it might have another chance with this sweet girl."

"Thank you, honored one," Nefin earnestly said. "I never thought to find an understanding confidante in you." He smiled wryly as Rhunön barked her gruff laugh. "Incidentally, would you prefer I keep your love story to myself?"

"It doesn't matter to me," Rhunön answered. "It was so long ago now. Barely anyone remembers that I apprenticed with Fûthark, though the dwarves certainly remember _him_. When Orik came to visit over thirty years ago, he was stammering and stumbling in his awe and excitement to learn that piece of information. But no one ever knew of our secret love, and for it to come to light now would do no one any harm."

Nefin nodded his understanding, helped Rhunön clear her table and tidy the kitchen, then offered his arm to her as they made their way back to the half-walled smithy centrally located within her ancient atrium.

-:-:-:-


	38. Preparing the Ship

**38\. Preparing the Ship**

During this time, Keeta quickly decided not to use her time alone to mope about Nefin, but rather to begin implementing Angela's counsel to prepare the twins' ship for a long voyage. She knew that if she didn't soon, she would eventually regret it.

As she and Lightning were flying back toward the Isle, Keeta realized she might not have a better opportunity to learn about the types of supplies she would need to pack for a trip at sea than in the elven city Sílthrim. Though it wasn't an ocean port, it was built on the shore of Ardwen Lake, which was home to many elven watercraft.

Since Keeta was hundreds of miles from the actual ocean and didn't see any way of making a detour to go there in the time she had, she decided that Sílthrim was her nearest and best alternative, and so she stopped in the city. The only elves she really knew there were Nefin's grandparents, Nefan and Silvi.

All of the elves who witnessed Lightning's arrival were as rapturous as usual at the sight of a dragon landing in their city, though it was a far more common occurrence than it had been when Nefin's mother Maehrí had first come home for a visit. And the elves treated Keeta very respectfully, politely guiding her to Nefan and Silvi's dwelling upon Keeta's request, which was, of course, made with perfect use of the ancient language.

Nefin's grandparents received her warmly, wholly unaware of the dwarf girl's feelings for their eldest grandson or that her solitary visit had anything to do with a debacle in Ellesméra. Keeta simply told them she planned to learn more about what went into preparing a water-bound vessel for a long journey.

After dinner the first evening, she scryed Ajh using the small enchanted mirrors each of the Riders carried around on their persons so they could easily reach other members of their order.

As soon as Ajh appeared in front of his mirror, Keeta got right to the point. "Ajh," she began, "can you meet me in Sílthrim? You and Hanna?"

Ajh blinked at her, nonplussed. "Keeta, are you all right?" he finally managed to say.

"Of course I am!" she reassured. "Can't you see that? I'm in Sílthrim, staying with Nefin and Hanna's grandparents for a time. I decided to stop here to learn how I need to prepare the ship. And one of the most important aspects of that is going to be food provisions, which is your area of expertise. We need to put our heads together so I know exactly what you'll need packed, how much, and so forth. Hanna will also need very specific supplies for her healing arts, many of which are probably only available in Du Weldenvarden or an elven city. Can you both come? As soon as possible? I've decided I need to dedicate myself to this responsibility for as long as it takes until the ship is ready."

"I suppose we can come," Ajh said after considering her words. "I'll have to ask Hanna, of course. Nefin might not care for the idea of Hanna going off without him. Especially after you did."

"Hanna will be fine with you and Berry," Keeta replied. "I can't think of a better escort or guard than a Dragon Rider and his dragon." Keeta suddenly heard Hanna's lilting voice somewhere near Ajh.

Hanna asked, "You'll need to ask me about what, Ajh?"

Ajh told her what was going on and explained what he had meant. Then he handed the mirror over to Hanna.

The first words out of Hanna's mouth had nothing to do with Keeta's request. "Keeta! How are you? Nefin is worried sick!"

"Is he now?" Keeta calmly returned. "Interesting. Well, as I told Ajh, I'm perfectly fine. Your grandparents are delightful and have seen to it that my stay so far has been completely comfortable. Luxurious, even. I'm sure they would be thrilled to see you. If you can come, I would really appreciate it. Once I know what you need and how much, I can take it from there. I'll find out where to obtain it, the best ways to pack and transport it, and how to get it back to the Isle."

"I'll come," Hanna immediately promised. "It sounds fun." A shy smile graced her lovely face as she handed the mirror back to Ajh, and the droll grin on his face as it once again appeared before Keeta gave her more than enough insight to guess that Hanna and Ajh were looking forward to the thought of a trip alone together.

Keeta couldn't stop a smile of her own from creeping onto her face. Hanna and Ajh. Of course. It was perfect. They both knew so much about plants and all of their amazing benefits. Hanna was so timid and gentle, and Ajh was just as gentle, but also outgoing and charming.

Keeta forced herself to focus again on the topic at hand. "Well, is there any reason you wouldn't be able to leave right away?"

"Not that I can think of," Ajh said. "But we'll want to talk with the others first to let them know. It's actually looking like the group might split up in more ways than this. Rather than be apart again, Will and Lena want to fly together for Ilirea so Lena can help mother and father with all of the final details for this year's Games. Brom is planning on going back to the Isle so he can be there in time for his birthday, since Angela told him about receiving a special gift. I suppose that means Brin will go there as well. You know how they're getting these days."

Keeta nodded, and Ajh continued, "Where Brom goes, Zadí does. Which means—"

"Var will too," Keeta finished with an understanding laugh.

Ajh also laughed. "My words exactly. Nefin wants to stay here alone for a time. He and Gerik are busy working on their weapons at Rhunön's, but Gerik's is nearly finished now. They actually seem to be making friends with each other."

Keeta raised her eyebrows in surprise, and Ajh nodded knowingly. "Yes. It was a relief for us all after what happened. Nefin told everyone so Brin wouldn't have to make something up, and Gerik was . . . ah, how shall I say it, Hanna? Highly displeased might be an accurate way of putting it. Sorry, Keeta," Ajh then said, returning his attention to her. "That must have been hard."

Keeta shrugged. "Yep, but I'm already distracting myself with this new task. So that just leaves you and Hanna. And now you also have an important mission to embark upon." She laughed teasingly.

Ajh dipped his head, eyes twinkling merrily. "So it would appear."

"What about Gerik?" Keeta asked. "Since he's a dwarf, his dragon is surely big enough to fly with him now."

"Yes," Ajh confirmed. "They have been doing a lot of that. And Nefin was the one to step in after you left and continue Gerik's training. If I understand correctly, Gerik plans to travel to the Isle with Brom and the others long enough to finish the required first six months of training, which will proceed during their journey now that Arûna can be instructed in aerial techniques with her Rider. Then he will return home for his allowed visit before going back to the Isle this fall. I guess he had plans to travel to Ilirea for the Games before becoming a Dragon Rider, but that incident and all of the ensuing experiences have more than satisfied his adventuresome streak. He has never come right out and said it, but I think he's homesick. Most of us were lucky that we really didn't have to be away from our families to receive our initial Dragon Rider training."

"True," Keeta thoughtfully said. "That does sound like Gerik. He is a devoted son and brother. Thank you for sharing all of that, Ajh. I'm glad to hear that things are going well and that everyone has something to do or somewhere to go. Can you two be spared right away?"

"We'll find out, and I will let you know just as soon as we do," Ajh promised. "Until then."

Keeta acknowledged his words with a cheerful grin before ending her spell. She got right back to work on the long list she had already begun to make of things she was certain they would need to pack on the ship.

-:-:-

Ajh and Hanna arrived in Sílthrim only a few days later. Ajh explained to Keeta that the young Dragon Riders—with the exception of Nefin—had departed Ellesméra at the same time in the exact manner he had described during their recent scrying session. Will and Lena flew to Ilirea while Brom, Brin, Var, Zadí, and Gerik returned to the Isle of the Eldunarí.

They planned to hold the Human Choosing Ceremony right after the birthday succession, which consisted of Var, Will, and Lena on the same day, Ajh the day after, and Hanna the day after that. All of these birthdays happened right at the beginning of summer, so the group had about three months before they planned to meet up again in Ilirea.

Hanna's grandparents, Nefan and Silvi, were overjoyed to see their granddaughter and another Dragon Rider. With Ajh and Keeta's approval, their two dragons took Hanna and her grandparents on an overnight trip so Hanna could obtain healing supplies from a solitary elf her grandparents knew who lived in seclusion in the forest.

Ajh and Keeta remained behind to earnestly discuss food supplies they would need for a long voyage at sea. Ajh shared with Keeta all he had learned during his time in Ellesméra and also that he had already begun making preparations and gathering food.

Keeta glanced up from her sheaf of parchment, which contained her extensive and growing list. "Forgive me if I'm wrong, but when I scryed you, it seemed to me like you and Hanna were both excited by the chance to fly here alone together."

Ajh grinned. "Yes, indeed," he confirmed. "She's so sweet. And unbelievably beautiful. But why is it that she and Nefin are so different from other elves? They are more stunning than any others I've ever met, but they don't seem to think the world revolves around them."

Keeta laughed. "That's a good way to put it. Some elves do seem rather condescending toward those without their natural advantages. Maybe Nefin and Hanna are the way they are because that's how Hanin and Maehrí are. And Nefan and Silvi, to a certain extent."

"That could be it," Ajh thoughtfully agreed. "Isn't it almost uncanny how closely Hanna and Nefin resemble their grandparents? Nefin has Nefan's same coloring—black hair, pale blue eyes—"

"But his skin is tanner," Keeta interrupted. Then she blushed, and Ajh laughed at her. "Thanks to his father, no doubt," she hastily added.

Ajh continued smiling. "And Hanna also has a feature from her father that sets her slightly apart from Silvi, though she has the same shimmering silver hair."

"What's that?" Keeta playfully asked.

"Her eyes," Ajh immediately responded. "Silvi's are a warm, light brown, but Hanna's are so dark brown that they almost look black, which is completely unexpected with her silver hair and fair skin. It's so amazing though. They're like some varieties of cocoa beans I've seen."

Keeta now laughed at him. "You're always comparing things to food, Ajh. But just so you know, you might not want to use that comparison as a complement to Hanna. It's not that romantic. Maybe only if you have made her some amazing chocolate frosting in tribute to her gorgeous eye color. But _after_ she has had a chance to taste it. Then you could whisper in her ear, 'All I could think about while mashing these cocoa beans'—or whatever you do to them—'is your stunning eye color, sugar.'"

Ajh laughed heartily. "Thanks for the warning, Keeta. We males are sometimes complete idiots." Then his jovial expression fell and he looked apologetic. "Sorry," he muttered. "I just realized what that might have made you think about."

"Don't worry, Ajh," Keeta dismissed. "I haven't been thinking about that too much." Which wasn't entirely true, but no reason to bother Ajh with it. "I know Nefin didn't want for it to happen."

Ajh seriously shook his head, insisting, "No, he didn't."

Before he could say more, Keeta changed the subject back. "What I've always been curious about is who _you_ most resemble."

Ajh grinned. "Not my father, that's for sure. I'm told by those who knew him that I actually look remarkably like my namesake, my grandfather Ajihad."

"Really?" Keeta said. "How interesting. His reputation will always be formidable among the dwarves."

Ajh nodded proudly. "Yes, and I definitely got more of my mother's dark skin, thick wiry hair, and almond-shaped eyes. Lena is much more of a combination of our parents' features."

"Well," Keeta teasingly reassured, "you're very handsome, Ajh. And Hanna seems to agree. I guess your eyes are a lot like hers. Almost black. It's very striking."

"Why thank ya, milady," Ajh teased right back.

"So you and Hanna," Keeta mused. "How would you feel about that?"

Ajh shrugged, casually leaning back in his chair so it balanced on its two rear legs. "If anything like that ever happened, I can't see myself objecting. But we're still pretty young. I guess I'll be seventeen in a few more months, and she'll be sixteen the day after, which is about how old Will and Lena were when they knew they loved each other. We seem to have a lot of common interests, and her gentle timidity is so adorable that I can't help but love it. I don't feel like I deserve someone so perfectly beautiful, but if she was open to a friendship and romance, I think I would be. I mean, we're already friends. And we're the only two out of the ten of us who haven't already paired up, so to speak. Not that I'm implying anything about you . . . I just . . ."

Keeta laughed dismissively. "You don't need to be so apologetic and careful around me, Ajh. Everyone knows how I feel about Nefin and that I have for years. What happened was just an accident. And it turned out to be really good because if everything had gone perfectly that day in Ellesméra, I'm almost certain I wouldn't be here right now, planning how to pack the ship. If I don't get these things ready now, the time would eventually come when I would regret my procrastination. I don't want to let that happen."

Ajh shook his head to show that he also didn't want to lose the opportunity "So should we get back to work?" he suggested.

"Yes!" Keeta said. "I'm actually planning as if there will be twelve people. I just can't stand to think of someone not being there, so I'm pretending we all will be. And the extra two would be Will and Var, who eat enough to be two people."

Ajh laughed appreciatively. "I know what you mean! And I'm slightly worried about the constant demands of trying to keep everyone full all day, every day."

"We'll work together," Keeta promised. "Food prep is such an ongoing task that it wouldn't be fair to leave it all up to you all the time. You would never leave the galley in that case."

"Which actually isn't as torturous in my mind as it might be in some other people's, especially if Hanna occasionally keeps me company," Ajh replied. "But I would certainly welcome help at cleanup time."

"You'll get it. Which reminds me. That's another thing we'll need. Basins for washing, soap, scrub brushes, and so forth." She started scribbling on her list again, adding more and more items as they filled her brain. And so they continued on.

-:-:-

After over a week of careful discussion and planning with Ajh and Hanna, Keeta felt fairly confident that her list and plan were as exhaustive as they could be. She knew exactly what she needed of every type of supply to keep ten people alive—fed, clothed, clean, rested, and entertained—on land or sea for about a year.

Which meant the real work was only beginning. Ajh and Hanna stayed with her for several more weeks to do more preparing of their own. Some of the plant and food stuffs they needed were most readily available in Du Weldenvarden, so it made sense for them to work on it before leaving Sílthrim.

By the time they _were_ ready to leave, they had depleted their funds and both dragons—Lightning and Berry—were heavily laden with supplies of every imaginable variety. Keeta knew she would have to go to the Isle to deliver these items as well as to obtain more money, for she would then need to return to Alagaёsia to continue her efforts of acquiring all of the goods they would need.

She spent most of her brief time at home on the ship with Var, mainly, though the others often accompanied them out of curiosity. Here she became better acquainted with the vessel that they all felt would carry them somewhere important in the not-so-distant future.

Their dragons always disdainfully regarded these planning sessions, with many comments along the lines of, _And where do you expect_ me _to be at this time?_ No one had a good answer to such questions, but they trustingly moved forward, somehow feeling the import of their decisions.

While home, Keeta also learned what had happened on Brom's birthday.

-:-:-:-


	39. Interlude

**39\. Interlude**

Two weeks after leaving Ellesméra, the group of five led by Brom arrived back on the Isle of the Eldunarí. After a joyful reunion with parents and siblings, the five youth recounted their experiences while away. Keeta's parents, Knilf and Greta, were not surprised or concerned about their daughter's whereabouts. Apparently Keeta had communicated with her family so they wouldn't worry about her.

Three days after their homecoming, Brom celebrated his nineteenth birthday. He awoke that morning after his most troubling dream with Angela yet. In it, she had offered the same foreboding warning that she had in Brin, Zadí, and Nefin's previous birthday dreams: _Be ready, Brom. The time is near at hand._

But then she had gone on to say that he would receive two extremely important presents that day from his father. Angela assured Brom that he _would_ receive the gifts, for she had personally seen to it that Eragon would act as predicted.

Angela had continued, _You are more prepared for your fate than any of your companions, Brom. I'm sorry I have to be so mysterious, but I am only permitted to assist you to a certain extent. We are not allowed to interfere with the agency of any mortal—or immortal, as the case may be—in the land, otherwise I and all of the rest of us up here would do all within our power to directly thwart the events that are even now set in motion to transpire. We do not know exactly what is going to happen or when, for the simple reason that so many factors influence every action, every outcome. We have only received glimpses into a certain, possible future—the most likely future—one where you ten will need the skills you have developed. And this is why I was allowed to visit you in birthday dreams—because you were open to hearing my counsel and the choice was left to you as to whether or not you would follow through on it. I'm so proud and grateful you all_ _chose to heed my words. You ten will be ready to face what is ahead because you have been faithful and dedicated in preparing yourselves._

 _When you were not yet a day old, I counseled you:_ Be strong, Brom. Be courageous. And follow the examples of your two noble parents. _Remember my words now, dear one. You are the oldest of your peers. You have had worthy examples to emulate all your life, and now your friends will look to you for leadership. Provide them with the strength and courage they will need to prevail. You will face this opposition as a team, and that is the only way you will succeed. But the hardest task will fall to you, Brom. Continue to prepare yourself in all the ways we have discussed and help the others prepare as well._

After concluding her speech, Angela had gazed at him beseechingly while her person faded from his awareness. Then Brom had awakened.

Brom had been mulling over his dream and repeating Angela's words for nearly an hour when a knock on his door dragged him out of his reverie. He sat up in bed and called, "Come in."

The door opened in front of his father, who stepped through and closed it behind himself. Eragon seriously regarded Brom for a moment before asking, "Another dream?"

Brom immediately noticed the bundle in his father's hands. His mind was so attuned to mental perception that it required no effort for Brom to recognize the vast energy contained in whatever his father was holding. He raised his eyebrows wonderingly then returned his gaze to his father's face.

"Yes, father," he answered. "For thirteen years. Superstitious folk would say that's a bad omen."

"May I sit?"

"Of course," Brom replied, pulling his legs up to his chest and scooting back to lean against the wall behind him.

"Are you opposed to sharing with me what Angela said this year?"

"Not at all. I always have before, and this year seemed more important than any other." Brom succinctly related his dream and all of Angela's words. "She didn't know what was going to happen, but whatever it is, it will happen soon."

"Yes, that's certainly the way it appears," Eragon thoughtfully agreed. "Well, as Angela suggested, she did indeed ensure that you would receive this gift, Brom. I also had a dream last night. With Angela. And she instructed me that it was time for the possession of a certain powerful artifact to pass into your safekeeping. Believe me when I say that you are one of only a very few people I would entrust with this gift. Both parts of it." Brom's father handed him the loosely bundled item in his hand. "After you unwrap it, I will share the second part of your present. Happy birthday, son." And he grinned ironically.

Brom smiled warily and removed the material from around the object in his hands. When it fell away, Brom was left holding a black and blue sword belt. He stared at it curiously until his father mentioned the tassel hanging from one end. Brom pulled on it to reveal twelve glittering diamonds of various hues embedded in the belt and immediately identified it as the Belt of Beloth the Wise.

"It's real," Brom breathed. "I have always wondered. How do you hide this immense store of energy from the awareness of the other inhabitants on the Isle?"

"The Eldunarí help me," Eragon simply said. "Though it's not as hard as you might think. Even Riders who are trained to be capable of perceiving the energy of the smallest insects around them might not single this out from the endless, blinding light of life and creation that always exists in nature. But I'm not surprised you immediately sensed it, Brom. You have trained your mind to concentrate intently on everything you set your eyes on. You instantly perceive things on so many levels, whereas others must specifically focus their minds to sense on the energetic plane. Since the focus is second nature to you, as natural as breathing, you do it unthinkingly. I wore my father's ring for months without being aware of its power. It wasn't until I specifically honed in on it with the intention of tapping into the energy that I became aware of the store it contained."

"But the reservoir is so . . . limitless," Brom reverently whispered. "Have you been adding to it for all these years?"

"Not as much personally, but the Eldunarí have done a great deal. The supply _seems_ limitless, but a very intense, prolonged magical effort would realistically be able to deplete the store. Mother and I are concerned that I was advised to give this to you, Brom. It surely suggests you will need to use it, which means you will be engaging in some very serious magic. And the other gift I'm supposed to give you also supports that notion. Let me share it with you now."

Brom's father stopped speaking verbally but mentally continued, _Angela instructed that I was to tell you the name of names. The name of the ancient language._ Brom's eyes widened and he disbelievingly shook his head, but his father firmly persisted, _Are you ready? I only want to say it once, even like this._

Brom nodded solemnly and stared straight into his father's eyes as Eragon spoke the phrase that encompassed the powerful name. Brom repeated it once, but now that he had heard it, he was sure he would never forget it. The name seemed only right. True. As all true names were.

His father then counseled, _Guard it carefully, Brom. Even in your mind. There are some who could wrest that knowledge from you. I know you understand the magnitude of your responsibility. I'm sorry to have to burden and endanger you with it, but Angela insisted._

 _But why, father!_ Brom cried. _Why will I need to know this? Almost all of my effort has gone into mastering magic_ without _use of the ancient language. And all evidence points to the idea that my greatest magical struggle will be completely nonverbal._

Eragon reached out and reassuringly laid one hand on Brom's arm. _I don't know, son. None of us know what you ten are expected to face. But I want you to know that I have faith in your abilities. We—your parents—don't worry like we did when you all were younger. We are so proud of you, of the adults you have grown into._ I _am proud of_ you, _Brom. So proud. And confident you will succeed in your role, whatever it is. If these gifts will help you triumph, I would be remiss in my duty as your father to withhold them from you._

His father paused for a moment, withdrawing his hand. Then he added, _My only thought in answer to your question is that you might be able to discern wards that were cast in the ancient language—even if the words used to formulate those wards were only thought mentally rather than spoken aloud—and then likewise use your mental knowledge of the name of names to silently reverse those wards. Practice it if you can, with Blödhgarm or anyone else who will let you. Your skill in nonverbal use of magic has far exceeded mine, son. I know you are capable of incredible things, things I can barely begin to comprehend._

Brom smiled gratefully. "Thank you, father. It means more than I can say to know you believe in me and are proud of me. I'm proud to be your son. I won't let you down."

"No, Brom," Eragon gently said. "You have never let me down. I am honored—as I always have been—to be your father. Fatherhood has been the greatest adventure of my life." A knowing smile began to lighten his father's serious expression as he asked, "So how are things going with Brin? She seems more open to your desires than I have ever before seen her."

Brom grinned, and with that, their conversation turned to less weighty matters. Brom considered it a better birthday present than a fabled and powerful Rider's artifact that his father was Eragon Shadeslayer, and that such an important person would take the time to sincerely care about the seemingly trivial concerns in his life.

-:-:-

Not long after arriving back, Keeta announced to her friends that she would once again be leaving for Alagaёsia to continue buying and gathering supplies for the ship. Var immediately offered to accompany her, as did Brin. Both knew that Keeta would be able to transport more provisions back to the Isle with three dragons rather than one.

Zadí wanted to stay home with her parents and younger siblings, and Brom wanted to remain so he could practice his magical skills with the elven spellcasters who lived on the Isle. Ajh had flown back with Keeta to deliver her first load of supplies and also to return Hanna to her family, but he too decided to now fly home to Ilirea. Gerik stayed to complete his initial six months of Dragon Rider training, which was the required duration before the first allowed visit home.

So the group of four left in the middle of spring to continue their efforts during the interlude before the Human Choosing Ceremony began.

-:-:-

Nefin stayed in Ellesméra longer than he originally intended. He helped Rhunön finish Keeta's axe and kept her company while she made his own and Keeta's brightsteel chain mail. Then they worked together—though Nefin did almost all of the work under Rhunön's guidance, as he had with his own—to craft a bow and arrows as a gift for Keeta.

Nefin knew something about singing creations from wood, though he had never bothered to master the skill. But because he'd had an opportunity to begin learning with his own bow—and with Rhunön's help when needed—he sang a bow for Keeta from fine yew wood. It ended up being an almost identical though miniature match to his, which he decided he had done intentionally for some reason.

When they were finally finished with their work, Nefin regretfully informed Rhunön that it was time for him to leave. He had enjoyed his time there far more than he expected after the disastrous affair with Alanna, but he wanted to get back to the Isle and see his family. Hopefully he would also be able to see Keeta and present her with the gifts he had made.

Rhunön wished him well, and they said their farewells. Nefin scryed his mother before leaving to inform her that he would now be coming home, for he had previously told her not to worry about him when he didn't show up with the rest of his peers.

Nefin arrived home quickly—even after a brief visit to his grandparents in Sílthrim—since as a single Dragon Rider traveling by himself, he could maintain a much swifter pace than a group flying together. He was disappointed to learn that Keeta had left with Brin and Var over a week earlier. He considered flying to find them then decided against it, not wanting to seem desperate. So he resigned himself to remaining on the Isle with his family until his three friends returned and they all left again for the Human Choosing Ceremony in Ilirea.

-:-:-:-

* * *

 **A/N:** In order to keep my facts straight during the writing of _The Cycle Continues_ , I finally had to create a timeline. It was important for me to get the lengths of the many pregnancies right. But Paolini never refers to calendar months in Inheritance Cycle, so I never do either.

Right from the beginning of _Next Generation,_ I started out with a timeline. In case any of you are interested, here are the birthdays of my main characters. I'm putting this here since I frequently mention birthdays and seasons in this chapter. The years are meaningless in any modern context. I simply call the year that Eragon and Arya are reunited Year One for my own reference point (and their wedding took place on August 14, Year 1, if you wanted to know).

So Brom's birthday is April 10, Year 2 (remember that they had to prematurely 'induce' Arya's labor).  
Var, Will, and Lena's birthday is July 3, Year 2.  
Nefin's birthday is December 3, Year 2.  
Keeta's birthday is August 10, Year 3.  
Brin's birthday is August 15, Year 3.  
Ajh's birthday is July 4, Year 4.  
Zadí's birthday is October 15, Year 4.  
Hanna's birthday is July 5, Year 5.

Obviously the various married couples have _many_ more children, but I'm only including my ten main youth here.

So the next chapter, which is the first under my subcategory "Human Choosing Ceremony," starts at the beginning of July Year 21 (right after those five birthdays), during the summer that Eragon and Arya will celebrate their 20th anniversary.


	40. Zadí

**Human Choosing Ceremony**

 **40\. Zadí**

It was the first morning of the Human Choosing Ceremony. The young Dragon Riders—save Keeta, who was still busily readying the ship—were gathered in Ilirea with their closest friends from the Isle of the Eldunarí. Gerik had stayed on the Isle to continue his training with the more senior Dragon Riders who remained behind, and most of them would visit their homes in Alagaёsia for a month or so around the end of the summer. That time of year had informally become the traditional Rider's holiday of sorts. But everyone usually returned to the Isle of the Eldunarí around the same time that the newest Dragon Rider showed up for training in the beginning of the fall, provided that the Choosing Ceremony didn't drag on interminably.

The parents and younger siblings of the Dragon Rider youth had also come to Ilirea and were enjoying a relaxing vacation while the oldest children oversaw the Choosing Ceremony and Youth Camp.

Seven of the ten friends were now Dragon Riders, after Brin and Nefin had joined their ranks two and three years prior. Only Lena, Zadí, and Hanna had never been chosen. The group had collectively decided that Ajh—who had just turned seventeen and had been a Dragon Rider for four years—would be the guardian Rider this year, since he was the only fully human Dragon Rider youth and also the prince. But all of the human Dragon Riders, along with Brom, Will, Var, Nefin, and Brin, were prepared to participate since they expected to move more rapidly through this Ceremony than any of the others in recent years.

After the introductory gathering with all of the young people ages sixteen to twenty-two, where Ajh explained how the Ceremony would proceed, Zadí found herself waiting with the other human youth for her turn to meet the dragon egg. She knew it would be no different this year from all of the other times she had appeared before the dragon eggs. Zadí was sure she wouldn't be chosen, and she felt the same nagging resentment that she always stubbornly tried to quell.

She noticed many of the human boys eyeing her, some timidly, others admiringly. One tall boy, who was really more of a man already and must have been one of the oldest attendees at the Ceremony, paid particular attention to her, and Zadí found herself feeling flattered by the silent attention. But the pleased feeling gave way to annoyance as Var intentionally stepped between her and the man so as to block her from his sight.

"Var," she muttered. "What are you doing?"

"Protecting you, Izzie," Var lightly said. "From the lecherous eyes of an immoral man."

" _Really_ , Var?" Zadí demanded. "How would you know? He's just looking at me. Like _you_ always do, if I'm not mistaken."

"Yes, Zadí," Var agreed with an easy laugh. "But I've never looked at you like that and you know it. I see your beautiful soul along with your beautiful face. All he sees is your beautiful face and body. Promise. I'm a male. I know how an unscrupulous male mind works, though I've never had one."

"Is that so?" Zadí said with feigned irritation, though she couldn't keep the smile from her face.

"Yes, that is so," Var said with mock gravity. "So come with me."

"No, Var!" Zadí exclaimed. "I haven't introduced myself to the egg yet."

"No problem. I'll wait and walk with you to the pavilion so we can be first for lunch."

"We just finished breakfast," Zadí pointed out, rolling her eyes but making no further objection since it was almost her turn. She took the egg when Ajh handed it to her, his eyes twinkling. She smiled at him. "Time to meet the egg," she joked.

"Yep," Ajh agreed. "Old friends' reunion."

Zadí giggled. "Hi, in there," she said to the egg. "It's me. Zadí. We've met a hundred times, and I know it's still not my turn, so have fun finding your Rider." She handed the egg back to Ajh. "See you around, _guardian Rider_ ," she teasingly exaggerated.

Ajh laughed pleasantly and moved on to the next youth. Var, who had been patiently waiting by Zadí's side, as promised, took her arm and began guiding her toward the pavilion near the palace where the youth would be eating all of their meals.

Zadí removed her arm from his hand and said, "Var, can I talk to you for a minute?"

Var raised his eyebrows in surprise that she would ask like that. "Sure, Izzie," he replied with a playful grin.

Zadí rolled her eyes and elbowed him, which he allowed, though he could have dodged her.

Var slung his arm around her shoulders in a casual expression of friendliness. "Shall we walk?" he suggested.

"Yes. And I wish you wouldn't call me that. You know how much I hate it."

"I do. Which is why I do it. How else is a dumb male supposed to show a girl he likes her?"

Zadí looked up at him as she heard his voice change from teasing to serious. She knew he meant it and that he not only liked her a great deal, but most likely loved her.

"Var," she objected with reluctant protest in her voice. "That's what I want to talk to you about."

"What?" he said, clearly not willing to guess at her meaning.

"You liking me!" she exclaimed. "I don't think it's fair to you to keep feeling like that when I'm not sure I return your affection."

Var solemnly regarded her with his amazing, shimmering golden-brown eyes. But he said nothing.

Zadí sighed and stared into the distance beyond him. "I'm sorry, Var. You're one of my best friends and I'll always love you like that, but I feel too young to be as sure as you seem to be of anything beyond friendship. And yet, it's so obvious how you feel. You're so protective of me, and I feel guilty when I talk to another boy. Or even look at one." She cautiously glanced at him. "I don't want to feel obligated to you or like I belong to you."

Zadí flinched internally at the pain on his face, but she kept her composure on the surface. Var lifted one of his large, strong hands to gently cup her cheek.

"I'm so sorry you feel that way, Zadí," he softly said. "And if I have ever acted like I think you're my personal property. I don't think I could help the way I feel about you if I tried. I will always love you and protect you if it's within my power. But I'll stop acting like that, if it helps. And you are welcome to talk to or befriend anyone you like, though I'm not trying to imply that you need my permission. I just want you to know I would never resent that or be jealous. I can understand why the other boys look at you like they do. You can't help your charm."

Var lowered his hand and took a deep breath. After taking one of her hands in his, he gently implored, "But please be wary of some of them. Most of the boys here at the Ceremony are decent and respectful, but some of them . . ." He shook his head and anger flitted across his features as he closed his eyes. "Some of them wouldn't hesitate to take advantage of you or any other girl if they felt the inclination or had the opportunity." He opened his eyes and insistently stared into hers. "I'm sorry to be overprotective again. But please remember, Zadí. I can't stand the thought of you getting hurt."

Var released her hand and began to turn away. "Please let me know if your feelings ever change," he requested. "I'll be waiting. Forever." Then he slowly walked away.

Zadí hated the tears that sprang to her eyes. Why did she still feel sorry for him?


	41. Uncertain

**41\. Uncertain**

A few days later, Zadí found herself alone above the lake, sitting against a tree. The high queen had commissioned many workers to dig a canal from the Ramr River to an area near the city where a large clearing lay at the foot of some high cliffs. Here she caused her laborers to fashion a large reservoir, and once the water from the river filled it, a small lake formed, with the cliffs providing a natural dam. The small body of water was necessary for some of the competitions held during the biennial Games, and it also proved useful during the Human Choosing Ceremonies, for the youth found respite from the summer heat in the refreshing coolness of the water. Zadí sat atop the cliffs, pensively gazing out over the breathtaking view.

Her mind was still mulling over the conversation she'd had with Var a few days earlier, which she had been reminded of on numerous occasions as she interacted with and met other young men during the Choosing Ceremony.

One thing that had struck her was how different they all seemed to be from her male Dragon Rider friends and family. Brom, Var, and Will were all the same, no doubt thanks to the influence of their fathers, who had always been unfailingly loyal and committed to their mothers from the time they knew they loved them. Zadí was aware that it was an amazing trait to have and that most boys weren't as sure of such things at nineteen. Nor did those she had met seem to even _want_ to consider loving only one girl. All of the boys and girls she had been meeting at the Ceremony seemed to enjoy interacting with each other, flirting with _many_ members of the opposite gender, and all of the other normal drama that went along with the teen years. Why did those three all have to be so good? They all seemed perfect, and Zadí felt so inadequate in comparison.

It wasn't that Brom, Var, and Will intentionally ignored other girls. They were as chivalrous and considerate as ever when interacting with the female gender. But they never encouraged the doting adoration many girls seemed to feel for them. At the Urgal Choosing Ceremony two years earlier, Var, Will, and Brin had been the sought-after prizes, which circumstance had alarmed Brom as he saw Brin interacting so easily—albeit grudgingly—with the young Urgal rams present for the Ceremony. They had greatly admired Brin's fighting abilities, since such skills were so highly valued by the race.

And Var and Will were more famous than Brin because of who their mother and father were. Many Urgralgra considered them almost princes, since the entire race recognized Willow as their rightful queen. But the twin brothers had patiently endured the frivolous worship they girls had displayed, never wavering in the slightest in their affection for Lena and Zadí.

This year, the youth fawned over Brom, Nefin, Zadí, and Hanna, for Lena and Ajh were more familiar to them as the oldest children of the royal family. And a fair few female eyes admiringly followed the part Urgal twins wherever they went. It was hard to ignore such tall, strong, handsome males, and friendship and acceptance between the two races had never been better.

Zadí realized she had felt a twinge of jealously whenever she noticed a girl admiring or flirting with Var, though he had been true to his word and never displayed the slightest degree of resentment that she had been speaking with and befriending so many of the boys. Zadí knew it would be an immeasurable honor to have Var as her husband and that she would most likely be happy with him because he would always put her first. But at sixteen, she felt too young to be as sure as Var, and she knew it wasn't fair to expect him to wait around for her to return his feelings, which was why she had asked to talk to him.

But she knew, as Var had implied, that he still would. He would wait forever and always love her, even if she fell in love with and married someone else. And Var would never complain nor object. He would suffer in silent stoicism and remain alone all his long life if that happened.

The familiar irritation resurfaced. Zadí plucked a leaf from a nearby bush and began shredding it between her slender fingers. She hated feeling obligated to Var, though he had never intentionally created that reaction in her. She didn't want to be with him out of pity or because she knew it would make him happy, though that would have been the selfless thing to do, what he would have done. She was sure he would always take care of her if she agreed to be his and that he would attempt to ensure her happiness in every possible way. But she wanted to marry someone because she _wanted_ to, not because she felt guilty!

Zadí knew Brom and Will also already loved girls enough to want to marry them. Brom loved Brin, and Will loved Lena. Of the three girls—Lena, Brin, and herself—Lena was the only one who seemed as sure as Will and ready to move forward with him, though Brin seemed closer to that place every day. Zadí had the idea to talk with Brin to see if she could discover what had been responsible for the change from reluctant recipient of Brom's affection to flirtatious returner of it.

Zadí abruptly stood with that firm resolve then jumped as she turned and noticed a man standing on the path that led up to the cliffs, watching her.

"Oh!" Zadí exclaimed in surprise. "How long have you been there?" It took her only a moment to recognize the man who had been staring at her the first morning of the Ceremony.

"Not long," the man replied with a reassuring smile. "Maybe five minutes."

"Were you just staring at me?" Zadí wondered.

"Aye. Why wouldn't I? This is a beautiful place, but nothing here is as captivating as you."

Zadí blushed and looked down, feeling the same rush of pleasure she had whenever any of the other boys admired her so openly. Var had told her countless times that she was gorgeous, but that somehow seemed different. He was often teasing and had felt like a cousin to her for so many years. Here was a strange man telling her he thought she was beautiful.

The man laughed gently. "I'm sorry to make you uncomfortable. I'm Isaac." He extended his hand.

Zadí looked up and firmly shook his hand, not wanting to seem awkward. "I'm Zadí."

"Zadí?" he repeated. "That's pretty. Is it short for something?"

"Yes," Zadí replied. "Islanzadí. It was my grandmother's name, but it seemed too long for me when I was a baby so my parents decided to call me Zadí."

"I see," Isaac said. Zadí was glad he didn't seem to recognize the name and hoped he wouldn't ask about her parents. She was almost sure he would recognize _their_ names, and she hated how people always treated her with deference when they learned her parents were Eragon and Arya Shadeslayer.

Isaac was regarding her with disconcerting intensity, though she should have been used to that with Brom as her brother. Zadí supposed he was handsome. His hair was brown and close-cropped. His eyes were blue, but they were watery and something about them made Zadí mildly uncomfortable, though she couldn't identify why. His chin was somewhat weak and seemed to get lost in his neck when he tuned it a certain may. He was tall, but Zadí was used to being around very tall people and was tall herself. Isaac was probably a couple inches shorter than Brom, which made him a several inches taller than she was.

Zadí couldn't keep herself from comparing him to Var, whose eyes were so unique and beautiful. The only other people she had ever met with the same eye color were Willow and Varhog's other children. Var had a strong, angular jaw and chin, which also had a deep cleft in it like his father's. His hair was dark brown, almost black. And Var was taller of course. Taller than Brom or Isaac. And much stronger, though Isaac looked to be strong and muscular too. Then there were Var's horns, which somehow made him seem so powerful.

Zadí felt another flush of embarrassment as Isaac questioningly raised his eyebrows and grinned. "I hope you're happy with what you see," he said, laughing.

Zadí then found herself evaluating his laugh. It was nice enough, but not deep and soothing like Var's. _What is my problem?_ Zadí wondered to herself. She had told Var she wanted to meet other boys, but as soon as she did, _he_ was all she could think about.

Isaac unknowingly made her think even more about Var when he asked, "Has anyone ever thought about calling you Izzie after the first part of your name?"

Zadí felt a flicker of annoyance, not that Isaac said her detested nickname but because it was Var's special way of teasing her. She answered, "Yes, a friend of mine has."

"A boy?" Isaac knowingly asked.

"Yes, a boy," Zadí retorted. "But he's just a friend."

"Are there any boys in your life who are more than just friends?"

"No. Not in my mind."

"Well, that's good," Isaac said, obviously understanding her meaning. "So where are you from, Zadí?" he then asked in a conversational tone.

Zadí raised her eyebrows. He really must not recognize her or know who she was. And how could she answer him truthfully without giving that away? She wanted to feel normal for once, not like the daughter of the two most famous Dragon Riders in Alagaёsia. And she also desired to be honest, but she wasn't about to say "The Isle of the Eldunarí," since that would be a dead giveaway. So she said instead, "Part of the year I'm from a village near Daret," which was true. The Bolvek village where her family often stayed was near Daret. To discourage further questioning along those lines, she quickly added, "Where are you from?"

Isaac smiled and started walking back down the path that led away from the sheer drop opposite its head, motioning her to join him. "I'm from Dras-Leona. How old are you?"

"Sixteen," Zadí said. "I'll be seventeen in about three months. How about you?"

"I'm twenty-two," Isaac said. "Are you too young to have a twenty-two-year-old male friend?"

"Not as a friend," Zadí said with a smile. It was the first time she had smiled at him. She immediately saw the effect it had on him and groaned internally. Why did her gift have to be charming persuasion, activated by a smile?

But instead of looking completely won over, as so many other males seemed to when Zadí smiled at them, Isaac's eyes glinted in the strange way that once again made Zadí uncomfortable. It was gone as soon as she noticed it, and Zadí pushed away Var's warning that some boys might have bad intentions, which had sprung unbidden to her mind at the look in Isaac's eyes. She wanted to get to know another male without constantly worrying about Var.

"Good," Isaac approved. "How are you enjoying the Choosing Ceremony?"

Zadí couldn't help but smile again. It was so refreshing to talk to someone who wasn't aware of her association with the Dragon Riders. Three years ago in Ellesméra she had been treated almost as royalty because of who her parents were. "It's nice," she responded. "And interesting. The dragons are pretty."

"Yes," Isaac agreed. "But I'm not sure about the Riders."

"What do you mean?" Zadí demanded, more sharply than she intended.

Isaac looked over at her in surprise but didn't comment on her tone. "I've often wondered if they think they're better that we are. And isn't it strange that many of them have parents who are also Dragon Riders?"

"Oh," Zadí said with a laugh. "I see what you mean." She was pretending she had misunderstood him to downplay her sharp reply. She realized Isaac must be one of the youth with hard feelings toward the young Dragon Riders, and it was for this very reason that Lena wanted to hold these camps in the first place. "I guess I don't know," she continued with affected ignorance. "They seem nice enough. My understanding from what the guardian Rider said the first day is that the dragons choose their Riders, not the other way around."

"How?" Isaac asked. "They're inside their eggs."

"I don't know," Zadí truthfully answered. She had never understood that either. In fact, none of the Dragon Riders really did. "But a dragon hatching for a Rider's son isn't a new thing."

"True," Isaac allowed. "His Highness is the son of one of the Foresworn." Zadí dipped her head. Very few people knew that her father was also the son of a Dragon Rider. "And now his son is too."

Zadí nodded again. Isaac continued by asking, "What did you think of meeting the egg? I saw one of the Dragon Riders acting really familiar with you. Do you know him?"

"That would be Var," Zadí said in exasperation. "I do know him." She didn't want to lie, but she also didn't want to explain, so she quickly added, "To answer your question, it was neat meeting the dragon egg. I thought _it_ was pretty too." The full truth behind _this_ matter was that Zadí had met this egg, and all the others in the Cave of the Eldunarí, numerous times. And none of them had ever hatched for her.

Zadí thought she could understand how Lena felt. And Brin, up until a couple years ago when she was chosen at the Urgal Ceremony. But Lena seemed to have come to terms with her fate. She was incredibly smart and confident about her ability to still make a difference, though she wasn't a Dragon Rider. And Brin had already been an unbelievable fighter before ever becoming a Dragon Rider. She hadn't needed any special help to be amazing at that. Hanna, of course, was too sweet to ever feel resentment about anything, and she also had amazing magical abilities.

Which was why Zadí felt even more worthless. Aside from using her mind to communicate with others who also could—and her charming smile, of course—Zadí felt completely ordinary. She had never inherited any magical abilities from her elven mother. Brom seemed to have gotten enough for the two of them combined.

And though Zadí had her mother's black hair and green eyes, she looked like a human. She had her father's round human ears. At least, Zadí's were round like her father's had been before becoming a Dragon Rider and being transformed to resemble an elf more than a human during the Blood-oath Celebration. Her father's beard and body hair were his most obvious outwardly human features.

Zadí's facial structure was also more human in appearance. Her jaw and chin were broader than an elf's, though they were still feminine. Her eyes weren't slanted and her eyebrows were rounded and arching. She knew she was very beautiful, and since she was tall—also thanks to her parents—she looked older than her age. But it didn't make her feel any more special when all of her closest friends either had amazing talents aside from being a Dragon Rider or were also Dragon Riders on top of that.

"Not very talkative, are you?" Isaac observed as he glanced over at her. "But I like it. I can't stand it when girls prattle on endlessly."

Zadí thought for a moment about how patient and loving Var was whenever his little sisters carried on and on in breathless enthusiasm while sharing some experience or other. But she quickly apologized, "Sorry. Just thinking. Have you had your turn with the dragon egg?"

"Yes, yesterday," Isaac answered. "They decided to go by age after the initial day of introductions, and they're working their way through the youth in their twenties from south to north. Something about allowing those from the warmer climates to return back home earlier since their crops are likely to be further along, if they aren't chosen and want to leave before the Youth Camp. I'm one of the oldest here and from Dras-Leona, so I fit into the third day. Really speeding things up this year, aren't they?"

"Indeed," Zadí agreed, already intimately familiar with the proceedings of each Ceremony and especially the changes implemented this year, since she had helped decide them. But she still didn't want to let on of her connection. "Are you planning on staying for the Youth Camp, then?"

"Why not?" Isaac casually drawled. "It will give me something interesting to do."

"Do you not have an occupation to return home to?"

"Nothing pressing," Isaac said in an evasive manner.

Zadí furrowed her brow slightly, not appreciating the unsavory expression on Isaac's face. She then asked, "Are you disappointed?"

"About what? That the egg didn't hatch for me?" Isaac asked. Zadí nodded. "No. I don't think I'd like being a Dragon Rider. They all seem so moral and upright. That's not my style."

 _Then I can see why it didn't hatch for you,_ Zadí scornfully thought, though she obviously didn't voice her words aloud. She had an idea why Isaac hadn't directly answered her question about having an occupation. She could easily imagine that this man's livelihood was either unlawful or something most upright citizens would frown upon—both of which were easy to envision in a city with the reputation of Dras-Leona. Or perhaps he was unemployed and simply drank and gambled to entertain himself. He was well-spoken enough that Zadí guessed his family had enough money to afford an education for him, so maybe he squandered his family's fortune on licentious reveling.

After his last remark she observed, "They do. But I don't see that as a bad thing."

"Oh no? You like a good boy?"

"Shouldn't I?" Zadí defiantly asked, feeling strongly that Isaac wasn't someone she wanted even as a casual acquaintance.

"Of course," Isaac said in an insufferably patronizing tone.

Zadí tried to keep a scowl from her face. She once again felt uneasy by his manner and the way he looked at her. Maybe Var was right about unscrupulous males. She remembered the other words Var had used—lecherous, immoral—the first time Isaac had looked at her, and Zadí suddenly felt ashamed that she had experienced even a moment of pleasure at Isaac's empty flattery when there was a man like Var who truly loved her for who she was. She noticed with relief that they had wandered back toward the camps where the youth from cities other than Ilirea were staying for the duration of the proceedings.

Zadí wanted to get away from Isaac, so she said, "Before you surprised me on the cliffs, I was going to come talk to a friend. Now that we're back, I think I will. It was nice meeting you, Isaac." It was the first lie Zadí had told him.

"The pleasure was mine, Zadí," he said, his eyes narrowing in a strange way before he turned to go.

Once he was no longer looking, Zadí shuddered and hoped she wouldn't see him again. She continued on toward the palace where she expected to find Brin, since it was now past dinnertime and the Ceremony had ended for the day. The Dragon Riders and their families were staying in the palace as honored guests of the royal family. Every day the young adults went down to the camps to interact with the other youth, since getting to know the young Dragon Riders was the whole point of the Ceremony and Youth Camp, but they all returned to the palace each night to sleep.

-:-:-:-


	42. Anniversary Plans

**42\. Anniversary Plans**

The next afternoon in the palace, the mothers of all the young Dragon Riders gathered together in the high queen's private sitting chamber. A swarm of small children ages two and up surrounded them, playing on the floor with one another and the variety of toys available to them.

Breetuk commented, "None of us have babies sitting in our laps. Are any of yours still nursing right now, Willow?"

"No," Willow replied. "Ollie weaned about a month ago. The more children we have, the earlier the younger ones seem to wean. There is so much going on around them that they're so anxious to take part in."

"That's just how Ari was too," Arya mused. "It has been so many years since I haven't had a nursing baby that I almost don't know what to do with myself."

The women laughed, and Maehrí contributed, "Once I got pregnant with this baby, my milk dried up so much more quickly that Meri lost interest. When I got pregnant with Hanna, Nefin kept nursing doggedly all the way through, and I think there might have always been a bit of milk for him. Funny how things change over time, though we aren't really aging."

"Yes, I've wondered about that," Greta said. "Though we will experience relative immortality, will our bodies still become infertile when they normally would have? Arya has borne eight children, though so many years older than the rest of us. Did your childbearing years begin when you first became pregnant?"

"I have thought about that," Arya said. "I believe you are probably right, Greta. I think we will probably all experience the typical thirty or so years of fertility, then our wombs will become still and inactive. When I was pregnant with Brom, Eragon joked we might have a hundred children. I was completely mesmerized by the idea. Now that we have eight, I think a hundred might kill me. I'm so tired all the time. It will be a relief if I cease being fertile in a few years."

"I agree," Willow said. "Varhog and I have never considered trying to prevent the children from coming. Their insistent nursing does a good enough job of inhibiting my fertility as it is. But I think I'll be glad to stop having my own children before long and begin eagerly awaiting the grandbabies. Can you believe we might really have grandchildren in only a few more years?"

"Yes, we most certainly might," Nasuada agreed. "Will and Lena seem more serious all the time. What about Var and Zadí, Arya?"

Arya sighed. "Zadí is unsure of how she feels right now. She knows what an honor it would be to marry Var, but she is enjoying the opportunity to meet other young men at the Youth Camps. But no one is better than Var. I hope she comes to realize that before long. He has been so morose lately."

"It's good for him," Willow dismissed. "The longer you have to wait or the harder you have to work for something, the more you appreciate it in the end."

"At least I now know how you must have felt all along, Bree," Arya sympathetically said. "I almost feel guilty around Willow knowing my daughter is slighting her amazing son."

Breetuk nodded. "That's a good way to put it. Brin has always been overwhelmed by the thought that Brom regards her so highly. She knows how wonderful he is, and she feels like he is almost too good for her. Our husbands have ensured that our sons are some of the best males there are. I sometimes wonder if I didn't do a good enough job with my daughter for her to be so uncertain."

"No, sister," Arya reassured. "Brin is also amazing, and it seems she has been experiencing a gradual change of heart. Brom is encouraged, at least. Some people just need a little longer to be aware of their feelings. I can completely understand her reluctance. It took me forever to finally come to my senses and admit how I felt about Eragon. And I'm not surprised that Brom is the way he is with Eragon as his father. If our children go through a similar experience, it will be worth it in the end."

Breetuk smiled gratefully. "I'm glad you aren't resentful. It's fun having children near the same ages. Watching them grow up together has been delightful. Their innocent friendships all their lives have evolved into these more complex, adult relationships." She turned her attention to Greta. "How's Keeta doing, Greta? Brin hasn't heard from her for a while, so I wondered if Knilf had."

"Yes, he has," Greta confirmed. "She is busy, but she's enjoying herself. Planning, organizing, figuring out the numbers, and packing are thrilling to her. She's amazing at it. She told Knilf just a few nights ago when she scryed him that she has completed her final dealings and is returning to the Isle with the last supplies she needed. She will be there when we all get back, I daresay."

"I'm glad to know she is safe," Maehrí murmured. "Nefin hasn't said much, but I can tell he has been worried sick that he hasn't seen or heard from her in months. Did you ever hear about what happened in Ellesméra?"

Greta nodded. "Keeta forgave him almost as soon as it was over. She knows it wasn't his fault, though it is noble of him to accept full responsibility. Just the kind of thing one would expect from a Dragon Rider. But she isn't one to mope, so she immediately began making the most of her time alone. She simply didn't see how she would have another opportunity to implement Angela's counsel if she kept waiting, and it has fully occupied her time since then. Tell Nefin she is fine. It's hard not to worry as her mother, but Keeta is tough. Dragon Riders have little to fear, even small dwarf girls. Having a dragon around always helps, but she is also a good fighter and magician."

"I will be sure to let Nefin know," Maehrí promised.

After a few moments of thoughtful silence, Maehrí abruptly changed the subject by saying, "You know what we should do?" The others looked at her questioningly. "We need to plan a getaway. Arya, you and Eragon will be celebrating your twentieth anniversary in just over a month. Then Nasuada and Willow will be having theirs only a few months later. Bree, Greta, and I are also coming up on twenty years in the next few years. While none of us have nursing babies, we should take advantage of that later this summer before new babies are born and all get away with our husbands somewhere. Without the children."

Arya's eyes lit up. "Yes!" she cried. "What a marvelous idea! I would never consider leaving if I had a nursing baby, but since I don't. . . . And it has been how many years? More than nineteen since that has been the case."

Willow looked equally enthralled by the suggestion. She eagerly added, "The oldest ones are now plenty old enough to look after the younger ones. And if we left them all on the Isle together with the elves and other Riders to oversee everything, they would be perfectly fine for a week or so. Oh, I would love that! To be alone with Varhog and my best friends, away from the little ones for a time, would be so rejuvenating!"

Her youngest son, Oliver, toddled over to her just then and reached for her. She scooped him up. "Hello, Ollie," she greeted. "You would be fine without mama for a time, right? With Monrow and Willow Jr. to care for you?"

Oliver said, "Wiw and Vawr?"

"Yes, sweetie," Willow reassured. "Will and Var too."

"Yay!" Oliver cried. "Pway Wiw and Vawr. Owwie be fine."

"Are you ready for your nap, sweetheart?" Willow lovingly asked.

"I tiwed," Oliver helpfully said.

"Well, then go to sleep right here," Willow invited. "I love holding you when I can." Her young son snuggled his head into her shoulder, twisting a strand of her hair through his fingers as he always had when he still nursed. Within a few moments his eyes drooped then closed, and he began breathing deeply. Willow kissed the top of his head.

"I'm in," Breetuk said. "I'm likely to be pregnant again within a few months, but that wouldn't keep me from coming for the world. I know Grintuk will agree."

"Yes," Greta said. "We'll come. You know, we should invite Bodin and Vinya to come along as well. They don't have as many little ones, but Vinya is also not nursing a baby right now."

"We should include all of the Dragon Riders who were Riders at the time we all married," Willow said. "Tomath and Elva might enjoy coming. In fact, we should just go to the island they're living on right now. It's only half a day's flight from the Isle and completely uninhabited except for them."

"That's the volcanic island, right?" Arya asked.

Willow nodded and said, "Yes, and it's gorgeous. The perfect location for an exotic, romantic getaway." She smiled delightedly.

"How is Elva doing with her pregnancy, Willow?" Nasuada asked. "Have you heard?"

"Yes," Willow replied. "Tomath scrys me frequently. Being away from other people has helped Elva immensely. She is now seven months along, which is several months longer than she ever made it before. If it was just the small group of us and our husbands, I imagine she would be fine to have us join them there. I can't foresee any circumstances that would cause any of us pain or sorrow on a trip like this, and that was always the trigger before all of her miscarriages. If this trip didn't happen for another month or so, she would be over eight months along, and the baby would have every hope of surviving when born."

"That's wonderful," Nasuada earnestly remarked. "I'm so happy for them. I wonder if they will return to Ilirea after her baby is born. We had gotten so accustomed to her being here that it has been more difficult in her absence. We don't feel as trusting of new guests without her reassurances that they mean the family no harm. But so far it has been fine. Murtagh stays near and is constantly searching with his mind for potential threats. I do like the sound of this anniversary getaway. It will be splendid to get away from my political responsibilities for a time."

"When the men get back tonight," Maehrí suggested, "let's tell them. I'm so excited!"

As they enthusiastically carried on, none of them noticed the large werecat leave the room in a trance-like stupor.

-:-:-

By dinnertime that evening, all of the senior male Riders had returned from their brief trip, which had consisted of investigating the latest rumors of the Ra'zac resurfacing. They had flown to Dras-Leona and Helgrind at the start of the Choosing Ceremony but found nothing to support the gossip that the frightening creatures were again loose in the land.

The fathers were overjoyed to be reunited with all of the youngsters. All of the oldest children of the more senior Dragon Riders—who were feasting with their families that evening for their fathers' homecoming, rather than in the pavilion with the other human youth—were also present, so the gathering in the royal dining chamber was quite large. The men had immediately agreed to the idea of a twenty-year anniversary celebration and reunion. Willow had scryed Tomath to see how they felt about the plan, and he and Elva were thrilled by the idea of some company. Willow had also scryed Bodin, since he and his Rider wife Vinya were in Tronjheim for the summer, and the other dwarven couple agreed to be present for the occasion. So the seven couples decided to depart for the remote tropical island just before Eragon and Arya's twentieth anniversary, provided the Choosing Ceremony and Youth Camp had concluded by that time.

The oldest children agreed to fulfill their familiar duties as babysitters for the youngsters, and everyone in the room was excited as the royal attendants served their meal. After the servants had cleared the final course, the families made their way out of the banquet hall and into a large, comfortable lounge. Several of the youth began a card game while the fathers engaged in some much needed play with the littlest children. The mothers gradually disappeared for an equally deserved early bedtime, after several days of caring for their children without their husbands' help.

As Will, Lena, Brom, Brin, Hanna, and Ajh formed one group of six to start their game, Var grabbed a book off the bookshelves and made his way to an armchair in one corner. Zadí sadly watched him as she also retrieved a book and sat in a chair by the windows on the opposite side of the room.

Nefin, Kent, Ginnee, and Bentuk were likewise trying to start a game, and they noticed their two solitary companions. Nefin called, "Var, Zadí, we need one more team. Come play with us!"

The two looked up then briefly at each other. Zadí glanced away just as quickly. "I don't feel up to it tonight, Nefin," she apologized. "I think I might actually go to bed." She stood and returned her book to the shelf, avoiding eye contact with Var, though he was staring vacantly at the unopened book in his lap. Zadí turned to leave the room, and her friends' curious glances followed her. They then turned on Var.

Var also rose from his chair, setting the book down on an adjacent table. "Sorry," he said. "I wouldn't be much fun right now. I've been wanting to fly with Blackfire anyway, though she's just as tired of my moping as the rest of you. Goodnight." He quietly left the room.

Will seemed the most concerned by Var's words and manner, but he stayed where he was. "Maybe we can combine decks and all play together," he suggested. "It might be more fun with ten people."

The others enthusiastically agreed, and they were soon playing their game.

Eragon and Varhog also noticed the strange behavior of their daughter and son. They questioningly glanced at each other, both shrugging at the same time, completely ignorant of what had been going on at the Choosing Ceremony, as they had been away since it commenced.

-:-:-:-


	43. Mental Defense

**43\. Mental Defense**

The next morning Lena was out among the human youth assembled in Ilirea. Will had just begun a shift with the dragon egg, and Lena set off in search of Brom. She found him sitting by himself—hiding, most likely—by the shore of the lake nearest the base of the cliffs. He looked up as she approached, no doubt hearing her with his sharp elven ears.

"Hi, Brom," she called as she walked closer to him.

"Hello," he greeted. "Were you looking for me? Or just coming to steal my hiding place?"

Lena laughed. "Maybe a little of both," she joked, sitting beside him. "No, actually I was really only looking for you. I just lost my bodyguard to his shift with the egg, so I thought I would take advantage of this hour and come find you. I've been wanting to ask you a favor."

"Oh? What's that?"

"In my last dream with Angela, she told me to be ready, just as she has everyone else, starting last year with Brin. But she gave me some additional advice, like she did with you. She commended me for how seriously I have taken the task of learning to solve difficult problems, but she counseled that I also need to know how to guard my mind—really guard it—from the mental prying of a powerful magician. I couldn't think of anyone better to practice that with than you. Will you help me?"

"Sure," Brom agreed. "Angela did advise me to help everyone prepare however I could. So you're going to try to hide something from me while I sneak into your mind and attempt to uncover your secrets?"

Lena laughed again. "Brin's having a good influence on you, Brom. You're much more teasing than I remember you being growing up."

Brom nodded, smiling. "I could say the same of you. Will and Brin are good for us, serious thinkers we have always been."

"True," Lena agreed. "So how shall we begin?"

"I know you have already practiced shielding your thoughts to a certain extent. Do you want me to make it obvious that I'm trying to pry into your mind?"

"Can any other magicians do what you are capable of?" Lena asked. "I mean, enter someone's mind without their awareness."

"Well, a lot of magicians can sense someone's thoughts without that person's awareness, simply because most non-magical people don't know what it feels like if someone is invading their mind. That is why we are taught to be so careful of intruding on people's consciousnesses. But you're a little different because you know what that magical mental touch feels like. And almost any other _magician_ would immediately know if another spellcaster was attempting to work their way past their mental defenses. But to my knowledge, based on what Blödhgarm has told me, there are no other magicians who can intrude on other magicians without their awareness, as I have learned to do. It's really quite a despicable ability to have. Though I see the value of it in certain situations, I definitely wouldn't want an enemy with my same capabilities. I hate to sound pompous, but maybe that's why I was taught to learn this—Angela knew I would never abuse it with the type of parents and upbringing I've had."

Lena nodded thoughtfully. "Well, I guess make your efforts obvious at first while I get a feel for what true prying in my mind feels like. I want to try to hide certain things while leaving other things obvious."

"To create a certain perception of yourself?" Brom asked. "A version of the truth, but not the full truth?"

Lena raised her eyebrows. "Were you just reading my mind?"

Brom apologetically shook his head. "No, Lena. Sorry. I've learned to be very perceptive about these types of things."

Lena laughed, slightly uneasy. "That's good, Brom. I'm sure there's a reason why. It's just unsettling to know someone who can guess almost exactly what I'm thinking just by listening to and looking at me, especially when I know you really could be in my head without me even realizing, though I believe you never _would_ do that without my permission."

"No," Brom promised. "I wouldn't. Very well. Let's get started."

Lena immediately felt Brom's mind pressing against her awareness, and she squeezed her eyes shut against the onslaught, knowing in the same moment that she would never maintain a pretense while so obviously resisting a mental attack. "Stop!" she gasped.

Brom did so at once. "Sorry," he said again. "I guessed that if some powerful magician ever wanted to assault your mind, they wouldn't be gentle or kind."

"No, most likely not," Lena shakily agreed. "I really don't think I have been prepared after feeling that. You are right that I know what a mental touch feels like. My father checks on us every night that way. But he's so gentle and kind, just as you said. I have never felt pain or vulnerability like that. But that's why I want to practice. I'm sure Angela knew what she meant when she advised me to learn this."

"I'll give you more time to prepare," Brom said, "just so you can begin to memorize and solidify your fallback defense, your selective image of yourself. Or however you want to think of it."

Lena nodded resolutely, clearing her mind and holding a picture there of what she wanted Brom to sense, while attempting to hide everything else behind that basic image. In her mind, she envisioned a cylindrical structure—her attempt to portray a well-rounded perception of her personality—with a perimeter of thick walls, within which she could hide anything she wanted to keep private.

"I think I'm more ready this time," she said. "Be just as aggressive as you were a moment ago. I need to be prepared to withstand that intensity while maintaining my outward composure. You are incredibly powerful, Brom. I'm impressed."

Brom shrugged and, without warning, mentally attacked Lena again, focusing his eyes unwaveringly upon her own, which added to the disconcerting nature of the exercise. Lena willed herself to keep her eyes open, finding that the intense concentration required to do just that aided her considerably in defending her thoughts against Brom's prying consciousness. Her brow began to crease under the strain, but Lena's gaze remained steady.

Brom seemed content to continue until she indicated a need for respite, which Lena did, not long after.

"Wow," she breathed. "That's really hard."

"But you did remarkably better on only your second attempt," Brom encouraged. "How far do you want me to go? I could dig really deep, be totally relentless."

"Eventually I want to get to that point," Lena said. "Where you try as hard as you can to bypass every defense and barrier I have placed. Let's just work up to it gradually. I'm sure I'll get stronger with practice, but right now I'd probably crack if you honed your focus and burrowed right through."

"Probably," Brom agreed. "Maybe I have a dark side none of us knows about and this big thing we're being prepared for will be the nine of you teaming up to defend against me. You will be the main mastermind, so you will have to protect your plans from my knowledge. I would unknowingly be bringing about my own defeat, if that were the case."

Lena laughed. "I seriously doubt that, Brom. If there is one thing I'm sure of besides how much Will loves me, it's that you won't turn against your friends and family."

"I'm glad you didn't say _never_ ," Brom said. "I'm careful with absolutes like that. They seem to create a challenge for some unseen force to defy."

"Yes," Lena ruefully assented. "Well, let's keep going until Will finishes. Unless you have something else you need to do?"

"No."

"Not meeting Brin, then?"

"We already fought this morning," Brom said. "I healed the nasty bruise on my temple where she bashed me with her horn. I just can't think of any other way to trap her without being behind. If my hand isn't too close, my face is. And it doesn't really even matter if she's armed or not. As long as she has arms, legs, knees, elbows, horns, her head, her feet—her whole body, in other words—she is a walking death machine. Luckily she likes me enough not to want to do true damage, otherwise I would be long gone. Hanna could probably heal a kicked in knee cap, but there's a chance she might not be able to and I shudder to think of how much that would hurt. I try to get Brin to fall to her knees, but she's so quick. And she just gets better every time we fight!"

Lena laughed apologetically. "Sorry, Brom. I wish love could be as easy for everyone as it was for me and Will."

"Yes, but I don't think I'll ever feel worthy of Brin unless I can best her, something she seems to be aware of as well. I guess I must get that from my father. There was a time when my mother could—and did—easily best him in every area of physical prowess. I think when the day came that he could run faster and fight better than she, he was relieved that he would actually be able to protect her if the need ever arose. I feel the same. As a man, I want to know I can protect the woman I love, even if she is more than capable herself. And how can I do that if I can't even match her?"

Lena shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe it's because Brin is an Urgal and fighting is the main way they determine their standing in society and prove their eligibility to marry. You want to be sure you qualify according to the customs of her race. I'm sure you will get there, Brom. She's a fast learner and an unbelievable fighter, but so are you. And I have a feeling that the prize for your eventual triumph is more than adequate motivation to keep you trying forever."

Brom nodded fervently. "Well, sorry to digress, Lena. Shall we continue? We can practice like this every day during Will's shift, if you would like."

"I would," Lena confirmed. So they carried on for the remainder of the hour

-:-:-:-


	44. Youth Camp Commences

**44\. Youth Camp Commences**

As the Ceremony progressed over the next several days and a new Rider still hadn't been chosen, Zadí continued interacting with and befriending other youth who weren't Dragon Riders. She sought out Brin and learned that she had been hesitant to return Brom's affection because she felt unworthy of him, which Zadí perfectly understood. But Brin's reluctance had been weakening since the time she had admitted to liking Brom and he had agreed not to pressure her. Brin shared that she enjoyed their frequent duels, which Brom continued to insist on in an effort to prove his worthiness according to Urgralish custom. Brin commiserated with Zadí and encouraged her to keep working through her feelings, since having a man like Brom—or Var, in Zadí's case—love her was something she would never regret.

Zadí was reassured by this conversation and continued thinking about it as the days passed and the Ceremony continued.

Var had been true to his word and stopped spending time with her. Zadí didn't even notice him hovering around, and she was surprised to realize that she missed him. She spoke with other boys, some of whom—like Isaac, who seemed to disappear for a time—didn't realize who she was, others of whom obviously did. The former group seemed ridiculous as they attempted to impress her, whereas the latter group made fools of themselves by fawning all over her. While she met many decent, respectful, smart, well-spoken males, none were as kind, intelligent, fun, teasing, hardworking, or good as Var. And they all acted awkward around her because they seemed to view her as a sort of celebrity. But Var obviously never had. They had grown up together and were therefore as comfortable around one another as they were with their own families.

But Zadí continued to stubbornly refuse to lead Var on by seeking him out simply because she now realized that she preferred his company more than any other boys'. She had told him her feelings weren't as strong as his, and she knew it would be inconsiderate to send him mixed messages by spending time with him before she was sure of what she felt. And she was more confused about that than ever.

-:-:-

Finally, after the Ceremony had been going on for a couple of weeks, the dragon hatched for a young woman from Carvahall. The small group of youth in their twenties from Carvahall—which was the most northern human city—had taken the last turn with the dragon egg before it would have moved on to the younger teenage attendees.

The Youth Dragon Rider Camp—which would now include all of the young people, since the Dragon Rider had been chosen, rather than only the twenty and older group—began the following day. A new anticipation filled the air as the youth assembled that morning, for they would all have the opportunity to participate in the Camp.

As with the one Urgal and multiple dwarf Youth Camps held the previous two years, the young Dragon Riders opened the Camp with a question and answer panel to enable the other boys and girls to learn about their lives.

Brom took charge at this point, since he was the senior Dragon Rider of the next generation. He began as Keeta had at the dwarf Camp by outlining some guidelines for the questions, with the intention of circumventing the ridiculous number of queries about romances and love lives at the Urgal Camp.

Brom explained, "This is an opportunity for you to find out what our lives are like on the Isle of the Eldunarí. Ask us about our duties and responsibilities there. Ask about our families and our studies. How we spend our time. Our hobbies. Things like that. We will tolerate exactly one question along the lines of, 'Will you marry me?' or 'Do you have a sweetheart?' before ending the discussion. Since I know many of you are desperately curious, I will attempt to answer that right now by telling you that Will and Lena are an item. I am unavailable. So is Var. And we are the only three I can speak for. If you really want to know, ask the others at a separate time." Brom stopped speaking and looked pointedly at Zadí, who was standing near the front of the crowd with the other youth, rather than on the platform with her friends.

He continued, "Everyone from the Isle will take part in the discussion, even our siblings who aren't Dragon Riders, so you can ask any of us any question you want, within the parameters I outlined. It should go without saying, but we also won't tolerate or answer questions that are inappropriate or vulgar. We will invite anyone who insists on such measures to leave."

When Zadí continued to stay where she was, painfully aware that Isaac was not far off, Brom suddenly said in her mind, _Zadí, come up here so we can start. Why have you been so distant lately?_

Zadí brushed off his question and reluctantly joined her brother on the platform, noticing that Isaac raised his eyebrows in surprise as he clearly recognized the resemblance between herself and Brom. Anger contorted his features until he realized Zadí was looking and mastered his emotions. He then smiled at her in a strange way. Zadí wanted to describe it as a cross between threatening and suggestive, but it was such a foreign expression that she couldn't be sure.

Zadí could practically feel Var's disapproval, so she quickly looked over and found him quietly observing Isaac as if he knew exactly why the man regarded Zadí like he did.

Isaac didn't seem to notice Var's cold stare but instead kept his eyes on Zadí with a calculating look in them that she tried to ignore.

The questions lasted for several hours and covered most of the same topics of the previous two years. Isaac asked Zadí a few about how she felt about not being chosen as a Dragon Rider and whether or not she had any special talents. She couldn't help but feel as if he was attacking her. He seemed to have a specific purpose in mind for asking, but Zadí couldn't guess what it might be. She wasn't aware of much else that happened, as focused as she was on ignoring the strange looks Isaac kept giving her and the increasingly menacing way Var stared back at him. She was relieved when the session ended and the group dispersed for lunch.

When everyone gathered together again, it was time to begin the fighting demonstration and lessons. The Riders had typically started these with a demonstration provided by themselves, mainly for entertainment. But before they did, Brom asked if anyone was interested in trying their luck in a contest with one of the Dragon Riders.

Zadí groaned internally when Isaac swaggered forward with exaggerated bravado. _Why him?_ she irritably thought.

"I will," Isaac challenged. "Who's man enough to fight me?"

A look of deep distaste briefly crossed Brom's face before he smoothed it away. But Zadí noticed the same expression on Var and Will's faces and wondered why. Did they know something she didn't? She obviously didn't care at all for the way Isaac was acting, but it seemed as if the three male Dragon Riders attributed even more to Isaac's behavior.

Brom calmly said, "You get to choose your opponent, sir. And some of the females are better fighters than we males. What is your name?"

"Isaac, _sir,_ " Isaac derisively answered. "I'll fight you. So that's your little sister?" He gestured toward Zadí.

Brom didn't try to hide his expression of displeasure this time. He looked over at Zadí, his face filling with concern. "Yes," he simply said, turning back to Isaac after once again clearing his emotions. "Choose your weapon, and we will begin."

Isaac ignored him. "Why do you look like an elf and she a human?"

Brom's lips pressed into a thin line. Zadí knew he was losing his patience, which was rare indeed for Brom. He nonetheless responded in a long-suffering tone, "Our mother is an elf. Our father is a human."

"Eragon Shadeslayer is a human?" Isaac disbelievingly scoffed. "He looks exactly like an elf. Why?"

"Elves actually can't grow beards," Brom said with the faintest trace of amusement. "But the answer to your question is a long story that I'm not going to tell right now. Choose your weapon."

"Is that why your face looks baby smooth?" Isaac taunted.

Brom sighed. "I remove my facial hair, Isaac. If you continue to insist on insulting my family, whether implicitly or openly, I'm going to ask you to leave. Now choose your weapon."

"I already know you would defeat me with a sword," Isaac sullenly muttered. "Your _father_ is the best swordsman in Alagaёsia. Why don't we fight man to man, without weapons?"

"As you wish," Brom said.

"And without magic," Isaac added.

"Of course," Brom agreed. "Shall we?"

"Such a gentleman, now aren't you?" Isaac sneered.

"It's more becoming than your unwarranted hostility," Brom coolly countered, completely unperturbed by Isaac's manner.

Isaac's face twisted angrily, and he lunged for Brom, who neatly sidestepped him. Isaac expected to make contact, and when he didn't, he stumbled forward into Var, who didn't budge in the slightest from the abrupt collision.

Var helped him regain his balance, but Isaac furiously swatted his hand away. "Don't touch me," he seethed, clearly already feeling mortified, from what Zadí could see.

Isaac turned and swung toward Brom, obviously thinking he would take Brom by surprise. But Zadí knew that nothing Isaac did would catch Brom off guard, even when Brom wasn't using his Rider's fighting mind. Brom could focus more intently than anyone Zadí had ever met, and his undivided attention was currently on Isaac.

Brom lifted an arm to easily block the blow, moving his other fist to Isaac's jaw, where he gently made contact. "That would have knocked you out if I had wanted it to," he quietly said. "Are we done?"

Isaac's eyes burned with rage. "No!" he hissed. "Fight me like a man!"

Brom was clearly tired of Isaac. "Very well." In a lighting quick movement, he grabbed Isaac's arm, wrenched it behind him, and pinned him to the ground—which was where Isaac fell and landed on his chest—placing his boot on the back of Isaac's neck. "Shall I break your arm too?" Brom pleasantly asked. "Or are you satisfied?"

Zadí looked over at Brin when she thought she heard a soft snicker. Brin had a small smile on her lips, but if Brom noticed, he didn't let on, as focused as he was on the insolent man sprawled out at his feet.

"Let me go, coward," Isaac fumed from the ground.

"It takes one to spot one," Brom mildly said, releasing Isaac. "But I should warn you that it's not the best idea to antagonize a Dragon Rider. And you currently have three feeling rather poorly toward you. Good thing we are taught to have self-control."

Isaac sprang to his feet, brushing himself off. "You think you could kill me?"

"Easily," Brom verified. "In about thirty different ways. Without magic."

"It's unnatural," Isaac said, suddenly calm on the surface, though Zadí sensed his rage boiling under the thin façade.

"I actually agree with you, Isaac," Brom said. "Dragon Riders have many unfair advantages. We are taught not to abuse them at the mercy of those less fortunate than we. However, if I ever see you look at my sister again the way you did this morning, I may not be as lenient. And I know I speak for Var as well."

Var dipped his head in agreement, which seemed so much more intimidating because of his powerful horns.

Isaac's eyes narrowed at the implied threat. "You'd have your half breed Urgal flunkies do your dirty work for you?" he breathed with thinly veiled hatred.

Brom raised his eyebrows at the racial slur, but Zadí clenched her hands into fists at the way Isaac insulted Will and Var. She was getting a glimpse of Isaac's true colors, and they were hideous. "They are better men than you will _ever_ be," she angrily whispered.

"Oh, how sweet," Isaac jeered. "A loyal little puppy dog."

That was all Var could take. He stepped in front of Zadí and growled, "Leave. Now."

Isaac looked up at Var then took a step to the side so he could address Zadí. " _This_ is the boy who likes you as more than a friend? You could do so much better, sweetheart."

Var's hands closed into fists, but he kept them rigidly at his sides.

"Don't call me that," Zadí snapped. "And no I couldn't. No one is better than Var, least of all you. Except maybe his father, but only because he has had longer to practice."

"You _dare_ suggest that an _Urgal ram_ is a better man than I?" Isaac spluttered.

"There's no comparison," Var said. "You're more of a beast than he will ever be."

Isaac's reddening face became a mottled tangle of veins. "If he was here, I'd tell him exactly what I thought of him. And his bastard sons."

"You can tell me what you think of me right now," Var hopefully invited. "But if you ever insult my mother, it will be the last thing you say. And if you would really like to meet my father, I could arranged that quite easily. He and Eragon are right in the palace and could be here within a few moments if I asked them to come with my mind. He is quite fond of humans, since he married one, and would no doubt be delighted to meet you. He's about four inches taller than I am. And has an extra hundred and fifty or so pounds of muscle."

Isaac snorted and shook his head in disgust. "Urgals and humans. Elves and humans. What is _wrong_ with you people? You're all repulsive." He turned on his heel and stalked away.

"Good riddance," Var darkly muttered. "Just keep walking, if you know what's good for you."

Brom impassively watched Isaac go, his arms folded across his chest. Once the man had disappeared, Brom turned back to the crowd of onlookers and raised his voice. "Sorry about that. Does anyone else feel like that man did?" The crowd was silent, and no one moved.

Brom continued, "We are holding these Camps so you have the opportunity to get to know us. We are aware that some have bitter feelings toward the young Dragon Riders and that's understandable. We hoped interacting with us would help you realize we're good people with many similarities to you. And as you learned during the panel discussion this morning, many of our siblings aren't Dragon Riders. Our life isn't as privileged as you might imagine. We have to work hard, and being a Dragon Rider is a weighty responsibility, which is why not everyone becomes one. It might seem glamorous, but it's not a life of luxury and ease. We have these skills to protect the people of Alagaёsia from danger and to help keep the peace. And since it seems a never-ending increase in our numbers might only serve to throw off the balance in the land, we and the dragons have seriously discussed limiting the addition of new Riders until we stop increasing our ranks altogether. Since we live forever, it seems unnecessary to keep growing in numbers."

Brom ended his long speech. No one else in the crowd of youth seemed to feel like Isaac. At least they weren't foolish enough to say anything if they did.

The fighting demonstration proceeded uninterrupted. After the Riders provided some engaging entertainment, with many highlights from Brin, they divided the youth into groups and each Dragon Rider oversaw the teaching of defensive fighting skills.

The fighting instruction took the rest of the day. By dinnertime the youth were dirty, exhausted, and starving, though thrilled by the events of the day.

-:-:-:-


	45. Missing You

**A/N:** FYI: At the end of this chapter and throughout the next you will find a scene involving some mature themes (specifically, attempted rape, so if that's a trigger for you, please skip).

* * *

 **45\. Missing You**

After dinner, Zadí once again headed off by herself, and Var watched her go from the pavilion where the youth ate their meals.

Will startled him by touching his arm. "Come on, Var. We need to talk," Will said, pulling Var away with him.

When they were sufficiently distant from the crowds, Will asked, "What's going on?"

Var stared straight ahead. He hadn't yet confided in his twin brother and best friend. But he knew he needed to. After a few minutes of silence, during which Will waited patiently and they continued walking away, Var finally said, "Zadí told me she didn't want to feel like she was obligated to me and that she wasn't sure she returned my feelings. That's all, but it was really discouraging after what happened in Ellesméra. I guess I got my hopes up. I've missed her, and it has been hard seeing her with the other boys. Especially hearing the way that idiot spoke to her earlier. I almost bashed his head in."

Will stared at him compassionately. "Sorry, Var. I thought it might be something like that."

Var nodded curtly. "I can't help how I feel, Will. Ever since I was old enough to feel this way, I've loved Zadí. Same as you with Lena. And being able to meet dozens of other girls at these Choosing Ceremonies and Youth Camps has done nothing but solidify those feelings. Plenty of them are nice and smart and pretty, but none of them even come close to comparing. Why can't we be normal boys and fancy lots of different girls? With a father like ours and a mentor like Eragon, it feels like we're doomed to be utterly loyal to one woman for all of time."

"And it probably makes it all the harder that Lena is as sure as I am."

"Yes," Var gloomily agreed, "but I don't hold it against you, or her, or Zadí. I just wish I could turn it off like a switch. That might make it less painful."

"She'll come around, Var," Will encouraged. "Zadí is younger than Lena, and she loves you as a friend. That's a start. You know she admires you. You heard how she stood up for you."

Var nodded halfheartedly. "Thanks, Will. And thanks for making me tell you. But I want to be alone again for a while. I think I might go swimming. It would feel good with how blasted hot it is out here and how sweaty we got during the fighting lessons."

Var knew Will understood. It was nice having someone exactly like him. They always understood each other. His brother gave him a wan smile as Var headed away.

Var had seen other youth walking toward the lake, so he made his way in a different direction because he really did want to be alone. No one else was swimming near the small stretch of beach at the base of the cliffs. Var removed his shirt, boots, and socks and waded into the water, hoping it would wash away some of his pain and lovesick longing.

-:-:-

Zadí once again sat at the top of the cliffs, having ascended up the path opposite the sheer edge beside her. She looked out at the glorious sunset, completely unaware that Var was in the water a hundred feet below her.

She rested her head against the trunk of the tree behind her and closed her eyes. With her face turned up and her eyes shut, her tears ran down her cheeks toward her ears.

Earlier that day when Isaac had challenged Brom and insulted Will and Var, Zadí had been shocked. But she now felt how deeply it troubled her to hear someone insult Will and Var and their Urgal heritage. The Urgralgra were her family as much as any people ever had been. Zadí loved them like her Aunt Willow did, and she hated that some humans still harbored prejudice against them.

But the way Var had acted compared to Isaac only reinforced her view that he was a better man than anyone else she would ever meet. Brom, Will, and Var—and Nefin and Ajh, for that matter—were some of the best men there were, just as their Dragon Rider fathers. Zadí had more than satisfied her curiosity of meeting other boys this Choosing Ceremony. At the Elf Ceremony three years earlier, there were very few young male elves and they hadn't seemed extremely interested in becoming acquainted with Zadí, perhaps because she resembled a human. Or maybe just because she had still been only thirteen and far too young for any type of romantic relationship.

At the Urgal Ceremony, the young Urgal rams had behaved very similarly, and Zadí decided it had more to do with her age than anything. The Dwarf Ceremony had been an opportunity to get to know many male dwarves, but Zadí hadn't ever seriously considered any of them as potential romantic interests. But this year, now that she was at the age where such things were more desirable, she had made the most of her chance to meet other males. And her conclusion was that, while there were many decent, kind, hardworking young men, Zadí liked Var better than any of them and had missed him dearly.

If she was honest with herself, Zadí knew she would admit that she loved Var as more than a friend. Only a couple weeks earlier she told him she felt too young to be as sure as he was, but after all that had happened, her feelings were now completely different. Zadí's father had known by the time he was sixteen that he would never love another woman besides her mother. At least Zadí had the luxury of knowing the one she cared for returned her affection.

As peace filled her heart for the first time in weeks, Zadí opened her eyes with a firm resolve to go find Var and share her revelation. She stood up and once again jumped, as she had two weeks earlier, when she turned toward the path—which her back had been facing—and saw Isaac standing there staring at her.

She gave him an icy glare and began marching around him to head back down the path. But he grabbed her arm to prevent her from leaving.

"Where ya goin', sweetheart?" he slurred, a mean look in his eye.

His breath stank, and Zadí realized by the way he sounded that he must have been drinking.

"Away from _you_ ," she snapped, jerking her arm free.

"Not yet, you aren't," Isaac growled as he snatched her arm back. "I might be no match for your special older brother and his two bodyguard thugs, but _you_ aren't anything extraordinary, are you? You aren't a Dragon Rider, nor do you have any of your _elven_ mother's unique traits. No matter that you're also a repulsive half breed, like those disgusting Urgal twins. You'll be _powerless_ against me."

Isaac grabbed her other arm and forced Zadí back against the tree she had been sitting in front of. In one hand, he held her wrists together so tightly above her head that she was sure she would have bruises.

He pressed his body into her, rolling his hips against her. Zadí felt a building sense of panic as she realized what Isaac was going to do. _No!_ she desperately thought. She tried to shift her weight to one foot so she could drive her knee up between his legs, but he seemed to expect something like that.

"No you don't," he smirked down at her, raising one knee and resting his shin sideways above her knees to pin her legs down. He leaned into her even more to keep his balance. Zadí's hands were beginning to tingle and go numb from lack of blood flow into them.

Zadí felt as helpless as Isaac predicted she would, but she wouldn't give up. She tried the last line of defense she could think of, though she didn't have much faith it would work with a man as twisted as Isaac. She took a deep breath and managed to force herself to look up into Isaac's leering face so she could give him a dazzling smile.

Isaac blinked in surprise. "There we go," he approvingly drawled. "You'll _enjoy_ this, just like all the others." He laughed crassly. "You're lucky I'll be your first. There's nothing like stealing a young maid's virginity."

"Isaac," Zadí sweetly said, though she felt like vomiting at his rank breath and lewd words. "Please let me go. You don't really want to do this."

"That right?" he said with soft menace. "You're wrong, sweetheart. Beg all you want. I love how afraid y'all always look. By the end, the only thing you'll be begging for is more. And before any of your Dragon Rider friends can get here, I'll be long gone." He rolled his hips again.

Zadí forced down the bile accumulating in her mouth by swallowing. "You think you can outrun a dragon?" she scoffed. "You'll be dead before you know it, Isaac. My father, mother, older brother, and best friends are all Dragon Riders, and they will consider what you're planning on doing the worst possible crime." _Of course!_ she feverishly thought, amazed she hadn't before and oddly grateful that Isaac had unwittingly reminded her. Zadí began searching with her mind for any of her friends or family who might be near. But Isaac's next words and actions momentarily distracted her.

"So noble," Isaac sneered. "Then I might as well enjoy myself before my imminent death." He grabbed the front of Zadí's shirt with his free hand and ripped straight down, exposing Zadí's chest and abdomen. He stared at her bare torso with lustful gloating in his eyes. "So mature and shapely though only sixteen," he purred, roughly fondling her. "Or did you lie about your age, like everything else?"

"I never lied to you, Isaac," Zadí said, trying desperately to keep the panic from her voice. She attempted to squirm away from his violating hand, but she was completely pinned to the tree. "It was simply refreshing to talk to someone who didn't know who I am, so I didn't want to give you any obvious clues. But I never lied."

" _Princess Zadí_ ," Isaac mocked. "Daughter of the great Shadeslayers. It will make my conquest all the more admirable."

 _No!_ Zadí thought again. Would anyone be able to reach her way up here before Isaac was done? She suddenly realized that Var was _close._ And she found Brom's mind quickly because of how familiar it was. She had to at least try. As Isaac reached his free hand down between them to lower his pants, Zadí mentally screamed, _Var! Brom! Help me!_

-:-:-:-


	46. Rescue

**46\. Rescue**

Var broke the surface of the lake with a gasp as Zadí's desperate voice filled his mind and echoed around. She was close. And in trouble.

 _Zadí!_ he cried. _Where are you?_

Brom's thoughts followed immediately after. _What's going on?_ he demanded.

 _I don't know!_ Var replied, panic-stricken. He was swimming back toward the beach as quickly as he could. _You heard what I did. Zadí, where are you?_ he urgently repeated.

Her mental voice was muffled and choppy, as if she was resisting something. Or someone. _Top . . . cliffs. Hurry! No . . . please!_ she attempted to answer, and Var felt the shift as her thoughts ceased communicating with him and responded to whatever was happening to her. And then her voice was gone.

Var was out of the water and climbing the rocks before he could even think. _Brom, I'm closer. I'll get there first. Find our fathers._ He tried to use magic to accelerate his climb, but he was so anxious about Zadí that he couldn't focus right and the control slipped away from him. Blackfire was making her way to him as rapidly as she could, but Var knew he would reach the top of the cliffs before his dragon appeared.

 _Just climb,_ Var told himself, focusing on the task at hand and grateful for his incredible strength that enabled him to ascend the sheer rock face with his bare hands.

-:-:-

Zadí turned her face away from Isaac and squeezed her eyes shut, unwilling to give him the gratification of seeing that she was as helpless and terrified as he wanted her to be. She guessed this was more about recovering his wounded pride from that morning than satisfying his lust. He had emphasized that he wanted her to feel powerless, just as he must have.

Before doing anything to Zadí's pants, Isaac once again pressed his body into her. She shuddered at the feel of his full arousal, more obvious now that his pants were down. He grabbed her chin and roughly jerked her face toward him, but she kept her eyes closed.

"Look at me," Isaac demanded.

"No," Zadí defied. Bile had been filling her mouth as the feelings of nausea increased. Instead of swallowing it again, Zadí spat it on him, hoping she would throw up. Maybe that would drive him away.

With her eyes closed, Zadí had no warning of Isaac's strike before it happened. He slapped her hard on her face, and the sting of the blow—combined with the taste of blood in her mouth—brought tears to her eyes.

Once they started, Zadí couldn't stop them. _No,_ she mentally sobbed as tears streamed out of her tightly closed eyes. _No, not like this. I'm so sorry, Var._ Why did she have to be so helpless! If she could fight like Brin or use magic like Hanna, she could have stopped Isaac long ago.

"That's right, sweetheart," Isaac scorned. "Cry for mercy." He sniggered triumphantly as he reached his hand down to the waistband of Zadí's leggings.

Then Zadí heard a terrifying roar and Isaac was suddenly gone. Due to the sudden absence of pressure from Isaac's body, Zadí crumpled to the ground, her hands aching painfully as blood rushed to fill them.

Zadí's eyes flew open to see Var in front of her, grasping a shocked and pathetically frightened-looking Isaac by his neck straight out over the edge of the cliffs.

"I should drop you, scum," Var furiously bellowed. "But you seemed really anxious to meet my father. You know, first Urgal Rider. The Black Rider." Isaac's reddening face somehow paled.

Var continued, "And her father. Surely you're familiar with _him_? You seemed aware of what a deadly enemy he would be. I'll leave your punishment up to them. Because if it was up to me, I would kill you. And I _will_ kill you if you ever touch her or another girl again. The most consistent lesson I ever learned from those two was how to respect a female, so I'm sure they will come up with something more appropriate than death when they hear what you meant to do to Zadí."

Var was trembling in rage and seemed to realize that Isaac was about to suffocate. The smaller man was gripping Var's wrist with both of his hands to no avail.

Var tossed him to the ground at the top of the cliffs, fixing Isaac with a steely glare.

Isaac gasped for breath for a few seconds then hastily pulled up his pants.

Var released a short bark of grim laughter. "My mother is the strongest, most amazing woman there is. And she is human. I have nothing against humans, but you might want to think twice next time you insult a part Urgal ram. No human man could ever hope to compete against an Urgal ram where manliness is concerned. Now get out of my sight before I shove you over the edge, though you won't get far before my father and Eragon arrive."

As if to emphasize his point, Blackfire appeared right at that moment, rising above the edge of the cliff. The dragon roared, releasing a jet of stunning pink-streaked black flames over the cliffs—away from the people at the top—to demonstrate her displeasure over her Rider's anger.

She hovered where she was, flapping to maintain her altitude, as Isaac fearfully scrambled back, stumbling to his feet and unsteadily down the path. Then Blackfire landed, carefully perching on the cliff edge since there was little room where Var and Zadí were.

Var stared after Isaac with his hands clenched into tight fists. He breathed slowly with forced control for about thirty seconds and by the time he turned to Zadí, she understood why. The tension in his body was completely gone, and his face had a look of such tender concern on it that Zadí's tears began to flow again.

She was sitting on the ground at the base of the tree with her legs drawn up to her chest to hide her nakedness. She lowered her face in shame, resting it against her knees. She sensed Var kneel in front of her, then he pulled her onto his lap and enfolded her in his arms.

"Oh, Zadí," he whispered. "I'm so sorry I couldn't get here sooner. I was swimming down there under the cliffs and had no idea you were up here. Blackfire was above the overhang with the other dragons. But when you screamed for help . . ." He shuddered, pressing her face to his bare chest. "I will never forget it, Zadí. For as long as I live. I didn't protect you, sweetie. I'm so sorry."

Zadí sobbed in relief and suddenly didn't care that her shirt was ripped. She wrapped her arms around Var's back, pulling herself tightly against him. She cried for a long, long time, still feeling so defiled from Isaac's crude fondling. Var's touch was so different. He was so gentle and loving. So kind. So respectful. He stroked her back and her hair while rocking her slowly back and forth. When her tears slowed, she pulled back to look at him.

"You're bleeding!" Var exclaimed. He placed one of his large, strong hands on her cheek where Isaac had slapped her, his touch once again a stark contrast to Isaac's. Var murmured the words of healing in the ancient language, and Zadí's split lip fused together. He wiped the trickle of blood away.

"Are you hurt anywhere else, Zadí? Let me fix your shirt." He used both of his hands on either side of the tear, and Zadí could see that he did his best not to touch her bare skin with his fingers as he mended the torn fabric. Within a few moments he was done and Zadí was covered again.

"I'm sorry if that embarrassed you, sweetie. Sorry I keep calling you that. I can't help it, Zadí. I love you so much. Did he hurt you anywhere else?"

"My wrists hurt," Zadí admitted.

Var's face twisted in concern as he gently held her wrists and once again used magic to heal the bruised tissue. "Is that all?" he asked, finally looking at her eyes.

Zadí loved his beautiful, shimmering eyes. She nodded slightly to answer him. "Thank you, Var. Thank you for coming. Thank you for stopping him. I would have hated myself even more if he had gone through with that."

"Hated yourself?" Var indignantly cried. "It wasn't your fault!"

"But I'm so weak, Var!" Zadí vehemently disagreed. "I can't fight like you others. I can't use magic. I was totally powerless, which is what he seemed to want. Why do I have to be the weak, helpless human girl? The damsel in distress?"

"So your Dragon Rider in shining armor can rescue you?" Var suggested with a small smile.

Zadí also smiled faintly. "Is that what this is?" she wondered, running her hand up his chest toward his shoulder then down his arm, where droplets of water from the lake still clung to his skin. "Shining armor?"

"You could say that," Var softly said, watching her hand as it moved. Zadí noticed goosebumps appear on Var's arm at her touch.

But Zadí stubbornly shook her head. "Var, my ability didn't even work. The one Angela has always told me to master. I tried to persuade him to leave me alone and it only encouraged him. I'm useless. I'll never be any help if there comes a day when we all have to use our abilities to fight some great evil."

"Zadí, that man wasn't a _person_. He was a twisted, perverted abomination. Your gift works on anyone with a heart and a conscience. You are the most amazing girl in the world. Can't you see how beautiful and special and talented you are? All of the abilities we gain as Dragon Riders are completely borrowed and unnatural. If it weren't for my bond with Blackfire, I'd be a strong, bumbling, part human, part Urgal boy. That's all. Nothing more."

"But you would still have your incredible knowledge of sailing, the ocean, the stars, and all of that. And you'd still be strong."

"That's not all that matters," Var returned. "Are you all right? I'm so sorry I didn't get here sooner."

"You got here soon enough, Var," Zadí said. "Thank you again for rescuing me. All I could think about was you. Because I love you, Var. I want _you_ to be the first man I share that with. The only one."

Var cautiously raised his eyebrows. "You don't have to say that just because I rescued you, Zadí. I would have helped any girl being treated like that. And been a lot less angry too."

"I know, Var," Zadí patiently said. "And I love you all the more for it. You are the best man I have ever known besides my father and your father. I'm not just saying that because I'm grateful. I mean it. I'm sorry about the last two weeks and what they must have put you through. I'm not confused or unsure anymore. I missed you, sweetie," she smiled teasingly, "and I was coming to tell you as much when Isaac showed up."

Var smiled in return and hugged Zadí. "Thank you, Izz. I love you, beautiful. I'm glad you came to feel you could return it. These past couple weeks were awful."

Zadí nodded her agreement against his chest, smiling that he used her nickname. For the first time, she didn't hate it. "I like it when you call me, Izz."

"Now I _really_ know you're only saying that," Var scoffed.

"Nope. I only had a problem with Izzie. All along I would have been fine with Izz."

" _Sure_ ," Var said in an exaggerated, drawn out way. Zadí pulled back to share the smile she knew he loved and saw his intent right before he warned, "I'm going to kiss you."

Her stomach fluttered nervously and to hide it, Zadí teasingly cautioned, "Better not be on the lips. Part Urgal may not be any different from full Urgal when it comes to this."

"No," Var disagreed. "Will can kiss Lena. And I'm an identical copy of him. But I won't unless you don't mind."

In answer, Zadí smiled even wider, circling her arms around his neck and leaning forward until her lips were almost brushing his. "I don't mind," she whispered. "But I'll let you do the honors."

Var's full mouth turned up slightly at her words, then he closed the narrow gap and pressed his lips to hers in a tender, longing kiss. He pulled back before long.

"Better stop," he muttered. "I can feel the Urgal blood in me demanding more." He took a deep breath. "I can't wait until you're my wife. But if I don't first ask your father for your hand, _my_ father will tan my hide."

Zadí laughed. "And when do you suppose that will be?"

"When do you want me to ask you to marry me?" Var inquired.

"Hmmm," Zadí mused. "How about when I turn seventeen? That will be a good birthday present."

"Very well. Then I will ask your father when we get back to the Isle before they leave for their anniversary celebration, and I'll ask you the big question in two months, three weeks, and four days."

"Is that how far away my birthday is?"

"Exactly," Var confirmed. "Do you want me to tell you the hours, minutes, and seconds too?"

Zadí giggled, which made Var laugh. "No, that's all right. I'll trust you have them ticking away in your head."

"I'm only kidding, sweetie. But I guess it won't be much of a surprise," Var playfully mourned.

"I'll still pretend," Zadí promised. "And it will give you plenty of time to make me a ring."

"True," Var said. He took her left hand and carefully examined her third finger. "Want to make it the right size," he explained before kissing the back of her hand. "Thank you, Izz. I love you so much. And I'll never let anything like that happen to you again, now that you don't mind me being around more."

"Stay with me as much as possible," she invited. Then she casually commented, "I never knew you could roar like that. It was pretty scary."

"Was it? That's good. I actually wasn't aware of that latent ability either. I love being part Urgal. But let's hope we don't hear too much more of it. I think I might have to be that livid in order to produce it."

"What about the other sounds Urgal rams can make?" Zadí innocently wondered. "They seem to be fairly good at rumbling and such."

"Yes, they do," Var agreed, playing along with her. "Especially at certain times. I guess we'll get to find out together before too much longer."

"I'm looking forward to it. That's one of the funniest parts of staying in the Bolvek village, although it wasn't until more recently that I even realized what it meant. I just thought they all snored really loudly."

Var laughed. "Maybe that's part of it," he allowed. Then he suggested, "How about I fly you back to the palace? With Blackfire's help, of course. She loves you too." The lovely dragon extended her neck so her face was closer to her Rider, and Zadí somehow sensed her concern.

"You don't want to see what our fathers decide to do with Isaac?"

"I never want to see that lowlife again," Var muttered. "I almost killed him, Zadí. I was this close." He held his finger and thumb together with a sliver of space between them. "I've never been so furious in my life. The only reason I didn't is because Blackfire reminded me that you might be disturbed to see me murder a man right before your eyes. But what he was planning to do to you is the worst thing imaginable in my mind, along with violence towards women and children. I hate that things like that even exist. I hope they decide to castrate him so he can never hurt another girl like that again."

"He implied there had been others," Zadí revealed. "I agree, Var. And I'm so glad men like you exist to teach the rest the right way to treat women and children." She wrapped her arms around Var's neck as he stood and climbed to his dragon's shoulders.

-:-:-:-


	47. Trial

**A/N:** One of my readers sent me a PM wondering about a scene depicting Isaac's punishment. I must admit, the original way I wrote that was very brief. I suppose I didn't imagine people reacting as strongly as they did about what happened (though I'm glad you're getting so into the story and characters). But since he wasn't the only one who indicated a desire to see Isaac's fate, I decided to write out that scene as I envision it happening. If you don't care to read the details, here is how the introductory paragraph to this chapter originally read:

 _The Youth Camp wrapped up quickly after the incident with Zadí. While Isaac's punishment didn't end up being as harsh as Var had hopefully suggested, Eragon and Varhog were understandably enraged by what Isaac had attempted to do. He was imprisoned in Ilirea for his crimes._

And that was all the more I ever said about Isaac. If that works for you, skip to the next chapter and carry on. If you want the details of the trial, read this one first. And if you're glad I embellished on my original single sentence, thank the reader who goes by Lycan Federation for inspiring me. ~Autumn

* * *

 **47\. Trial**

The Dragon Riders did not delay in holding a trial for Isaac. He obviously hadn't made it even to the camps before Eragon and Varhog showed up on Saphira and Black Thunder. For all of his false bravado, Isaac was a coward at heart, interested only in preserving his own life, so he immediately allowed himself to be taken into custody.

After hearing Zadí's account of the incident, Nasuada, Eragon, Varhog, and the other Riders decided to hold a public trial in case other young women attending the Camp could offer further witness of Isaac's misdeeds.

Once a small assembly had gathered in the courtyard stretching out in front of the royal palace, Eragon and Varhog appeared, Isaac walking sullenly between them. He wasn't bound, for all of the many Dragon Riders present knew he wasn't any danger to them.

The high queen was in attendance, overseeing the proceedings. After Eragon cast a spell that would magnify the voices of those standing in the center of the square, she began by saying, "Isaac of Dras-Leona, you are brought here this morning for the alleged crime of assaulting an innocent young woman. What do you have to say for yourself?"

Isaac seemed to know his fate was already decided. "Nothing," he rudely retorted.

Nasuada raised her eyebrows. "Shall we hear how the young lady in question would recount the situation?"

"Are you asking me?" Isaac scornfully demanded. "I'm sure you'll hear what she has to say regardless of my feelings."

Varhog laid a hand on Isaac's shoulder in warning. "Young man, may I remind you that you are not only speaking to a lady, but also your queen. If you continue to address her, or any of the others in this assembly, in such a manner, this trial will conclude without further consideration of your _feelings_."

"I understand," Isaac replied with a degree more respect in his voice, clearly painfully aware that the huge Urgal standing next to him was more than capable of ending his life with a flick of his wrist.

Nasuada turned toward Zadí, who stepped forward with her head held high, steadily staring at Isaac. "Yesterday evening Isaac found me alone at the top of the cliffs overlooking the lake. He prevented me from leaving and attempted to force himself upon me."

"In what manner?" Nasuada pressed.

"Sexually," Zadí said without the slightest wavering of her voice. "I called for help using my mind, and Var arrived before Isaac was able to complete his design. But he clearly implied he had done the same before to other young women, and I can only imagine he bragged about it because he was successful in those instances."

"Do you remember exactly what he said?" Nasuada asked.

"Yes," Zadí answered. She twisted her face into an ugly leer and spoke in a remarkably accurate imitation of Isaac's crass drawl, "He said, 'You'll _enjoy_ this, just like all the others. You're lucky I'll be your first. There's nothing like stealing a young maid's virginity.'"

Eragon's face tightened angrily, but he maintained his composure enough to say, "Var, what do you have to add?"

Var walked forward to stand next to Zadí. "I was swimming in the lake right below them, so I climbed up when Zadí cried for help. He had her pinned to a tree with his pants lowered. Her shirt was ripped, and he had hit her face hard enough to draw blood. I pulled him away and almost strangled him, but Blackfire suggested that might not be the best course of action. So I tossed him to the ground and told him to leave, knowing Brom had called for you and my father to come."

Eragon nodded curtly, turning slightly so he could look at Isaac. "How many other young women have you assaulted?" he calmly asked, but in a tone of absolute authority that demanded respect and honesty.

Isaac was now staring at the ground, but he replied in a clear voice, "Eight. Sir."

Varhog had never removed his hand from Isaac's shoulder, and he now questioned, "Are you aware of whether or not you ever fathered any children from those interactions?"

Isaac squirmed uncomfortably. "No, sir. How would I know? I obviously didn't do what I did because I cared about any of those girls."

He winced as Varhog tightened his grip. "You _should_ care," Varhog said in the same frighteningly calm voice Eragon had used. "Because not only did you hurt those girls physically, and in countless other ways, some of which they might never fully recover from, but if you left them with child, they would have had to deal with the shame of their predicament, the demands of pregnancy, and the enormous responsibility of caring for a baby and child on their own. If shunned by those around them, they most likely live a life of miserable poverty, from which they have no hope of escaping. Any children that might have been born will never experience the joy of knowing their father—not that it's such a great loss in this situation—or of having his help in raising them. Every child deserves a father and mother equally committed to loving and caring for it. And all of that is thanks to your _careless_ behavior. What do you feel is just punishment for consequences such as these?"

Isaac continued to stare at the ground, his cheeks burning in humiliation. He shuffled his feet and mumbled, "I don't know."

Eragon interjected, "We need to know who these young women were so we can help them, if necessary. Do you know their names?"

Isaac shook his head. "Not all of them."

"Would you share with us what you remember, anything that would help us in finding and assisting them?" Eragon persisted.

Isaac shrugged sullenly. "Why don't you just find what you need in my mind? You can read minds and all that, can't you?" He fidgeted again as Varhog's hand once again squeezed in warning.

"If you prefer," Eragon evenly said, glancing at Brom with his eyebrows raised.

Brom came to stand closer to his father, addressing Isaac, "We _can_ read minds, though we never do routinely. But I can search for what we need to know without your awareness, if you prefer not to have to feel it. It's not the most comfortable sensation."

Isaac raised his face enough to glare at Brom. "You're asking permission to invade my mind?" he seethed, reminiscent of the previous day.

"It was your idea," Brom coolly reminded him. "You can save yourself the inconvenience and me the unpleasant necessity of having to witness numerous assaults of this nature by simply sharing the information my father requested. I doubt you extended those girls the courtesy of asking their permission before _raping_ them, and you certainly don't deserve it, but I'd rather not stoop to your level."

"You're so self-righteous, aren't you?" Isaac hatefully breathed, though the amplification spell carried his words over the crowd. "Ow!" he exclaimed as Varhog mercilessly gripped his shoulder. He turned his angry stare up toward the Urgal. "This world would be so much better off without you arrogant Dragon Riders."

"That is enough," Varhog growled. "Brom, find what we need to know. Faces, places, names if you can. We will ensure that these young women, and any children, have the help they need." He looked toward Nasuada. "Your Majesty, what is your judgement regarding his man?"

"He will be imprisoned in Ilirea for his crimes, unless we find further evidence of more serious offenses—"

"I've never killed anyone," Isaac defensively muttered.

"That's good to hear," Nasuada replied, unperturbed by the interruption. "Brom can ascertain the truthfulness of that statement, and if you are being honest, imprisonment for the remainder of your days is all the worse your punishment will be."

"He's telling the truth," Brom verified.

"The rest of my life?" Isaac incredulously repeated.

"We may revisit that if we discover that none of these young women became pregnant after your treatment of them," Nasuada clarified. "But if they did, it seems only just. You have robbed not only the girls, but their babies—your children—of the opportunity to have a normal, happy life. Why should you be allowed to retain your liberty, free to harm other helpless young women whenever you feel so inclined?"

Isaac could not maintain eye contact with Nasuada's piercing gaze, and he once again lowered his face.

"Do you have parents we should inform?" Nasuada inquired.

"They live in an obscure village located at the southeastern most tip of the Spine," Isaac answered. "And I doubt they'll care much one way or the other. I left home three years ago with the intention of never returning."

"We can obtain those details at a later time," Nasuada declared, turning to gaze out over the crowd. "If any young women in this audience have additional testimony to offer against this man, we invite you to share with one of the Dragon Riders."

Zadí tentatively lifted her hand.

Nasuada looked at her. "Yes, Zadí?"

"I only wanted to offer that they could approach me, if they feel intimidated by that idea," Zadí explained.

"Thank you, Zadí. If you feel more comfortable speaking with Zadí," Nasuada continued, "please share anything that would help us ensure justice is served so this man cannot hurt anyone else."

When Nasuada finished speaking, Varhog decisively turned Isaac and began marching him back toward the palace, effectively ending the trial. No one ever ended up approaching Zadí to offer further evidence against Isaac, so the Dragon Riders oversaw the necessary arrangements to seek out the eight young women Isaac had previously assaulted and offer them succor. They also sent a messenger bearing news of Isaac's fate to his parents. As the high queen had ruled, Isaac was indeed imprisoned for his crimes, and talk of the debacle circulated throughout the camps and city for the remainder of the Youth Camp.

-:-:-

After a few days of flying with the dragons, the human youth staying in Ilirea began to return to their homes. Not long after, the Dragon Riders and their families, including the royal family, departed for the Isle of the Eldunarí to make the needed preparations for the highly anticipated anniversary getaway. Zadí willingly flew with Var and a couple of his younger sisters the entire trip.

The seven married couples planned to leave four days before Eragon and Arya's wedding anniversary—which was the same day as Keeta's eighteenth birthday—and stay away for a week. All of the elves who resided on the Isle fully supported the notion and agreed to help the oldest youth look after the younger children.

Gerik left for Tronjheim as soon as the families arrived on the Isle. Keeta had already been home for a few days, and she and Gerik had a nice opportunity to discuss their friendship. After getting to know Nefin better in Ellesméra, Gerik felt no resentment at the idea of Keeta and Nefin as a couple, and though Gerik didn't inform Keeta of that or anything Nefin had shared with him, he did reassure her that she needn't worry about him and that he would always be her friend.

As requested, Gerik scryed one of his dwarven mentors on the Isle when he reached Tronjheim to report on his safe travels and arrival.

-:-:-:-


	48. Permission

**48\. Permission**

A week before the married couples planned to leave, Eragon showed up at the entrance to the Cave of the Eldunarí for an unusual appointment. He was surprised when Var had approached him to request the meeting, and while he had made a vague guess as to the purpose of this afternoon's get-together, he wasn't sure about it.

About a minute later, Eragon glanced up to see not Var approaching, but Murtagh. When his half-brother stopped next to him, Eragon asked, "What are you doing here?"

Murtagh smiled. "Probably the same as you. Will asked to meet me."

"Did he now? Then perhaps my guess was accurate."

"What do you mean?"

"Var asked to meet _me,_ " Eragon explained. "Maybe our hopeful wish of so many years ago has been fulfilled."

"Indeed," Murtagh agreed. "I have been wondering when Will would make this arrangement. He has seemed sure of his feelings for years now. I know Lena was hoping something might happen by their birthday."

The two brothers looked away at the same time when the sound of someone approaching reached their ears. Two other, younger brothers were walking side by side toward the meeting location. Both wore identical nervous grins on their faces. Apparently they had decided to do this together, as was their usual habit.

Var spoke first. "Thanks for agreeing to meet with me, Uncle Eragon. I suppose I should stop calling you that."

"You're welcome, Var. And why should you stop calling me that?"

"Well, as I'm sure you have guessed, I wanted to meet with you about Zadí," Var said as confidently as he could. "Uh . . . I'd like your permission to ask her to marry me. And if you see fit to grant it, I guess you would eventually be more of a father than an uncle, though you were never technically that to begin with anyway."

"I see," Eragon mildly said. Then he fell silent.

Var grinned when he realized that his lifelong mentor was giving him the opportunity to formally voice his request. "Eragon, may I take your daughter Zadí as my wife?"

A small smile twitched at the corner of Eragon's mouth. "Will you protect her?"

"Yes, sir," Var seriously promised. "To the best of my ability."

"Will you love her?" Eragon pressed. "And do all you can to ensure her happiness?"

"I promise. I have loved Zadí for years. All I've wanted in all that time is to make her happy."

Eragon studied Var for a moment, and Var's gaze never wavered. Finally a broad grin stretched across Eragon's face. "Of course you have my permission, Var! Nothing makes me happier than this idea. Before I ask for more details, I suppose I should let Will have his turn." Eragon turned expectantly toward Will.

Will was already grinning as well, and he respectfully looked at Murtagh. "I had to let him go first since he's older," he began, and Murtagh chuckled. "So now it's no surprise," Will continued. "But I'm here for the same reason, Murtagh. I have loved Lena since I was fifteen. She is my best friend, and I want to share my life with her. Will you give your permission for me to take her hand in marriage?"

Murtagh nodded solemnly. "You have my permission, Will. Lena will be thrilled, though I will obviously let her hear it from you. I would sound remiss if I didn't guarantee your good intentions. Will you always love, protect, and cherish my daughter? By granting my blessing, I am trusting you to take over caring for her in my stead."

"Absolutely, sir," Will vowed. "I have never looked forward to anything more than having Lena as my wife. I will do all within my power to ensure her health, happiness, and safety for the rest of my life."

"Good man," Murtagh approved. "I'm proud of you two. Both of you are amazing men. Eragon and I have long agreed that we would like nothing better than to have Varhog's sons fall in love with our daughters. He has done an excellent job raising you."

"Yes," Will agreed. "There is no better teacher than father on how to honor and cherish one's wife."

"Well, when do you plan to propose?" Murtagh eagerly asked.

"Probably while you're gone," Will said. "We don't want to wait long after you return to get married."

"No, indeed," Murtagh said. "You shouldn't. A wedding later this summer would be welcome, wouldn't it, brother?"

"Certainly," Eragon said. "How about you, Var? Zadí is quite a bit younger than Lena."

"Yes, sir," Var acknowledged. "She told me to propose on her birthday. Is that acceptable to you?"

Eragon laughed. "Very sure of herself, isn't she? Of course it's acceptable, Var. Be prepared to be surprised. If Zadí is anything like her mother, you will be a very happy man."

Var's eyes slowly widened, a flush creeping onto his cheeks. "I'll keep that in mind," he stammered.

Eragon chuckled again. "What a wonderful early anniversary present. I'm anxious to tell Arya. And Varhog. He might have some words of advice for you two. May I excuse myself?"

The twins nodded, and Murtagh also indicated his intention to leave. "Good luck," he added as he and Eragon stepped around the twins and headed off together.

-:-:-

Unbeknownst to the four gathered in front of the Cave of the Eldunarí, two similar meetings were taking place simultaneously in two other locations on the Isle. Brom had sought out Grintuk, Brin's father, while Nefin had approached Knilf. These two young men—though less sure of the feelings of the two respective young ladies—also felt the need to make their desires known to their prospective fathers-in-law, since rumors were abounding on the Isle.

After these two meetings concluded, the four fathers happened to run into each other on their way back to the living quarters off the Great Hall. Varhog joined Eragon, Murtagh, Grintuk, and Knilf when he noticed their merrier-than-usual discussion.

"What's going on?" Varhog curiously asked.

Eragon grinned up at him. "Does it change our relationship at all when two of our children get married? Will we be more like real brothers now?"

Varhog's raised his eyebrows. "Did Var talk to you?"

"Yes," Eragon said with a laugh. "And Will talked to Murtagh."

"Did they?" Grintuk interjected. "I just spoke with Brom."

Eragon turned to him in surprise. "About Brin?"

"That's right," Grintuk affirmed. "He said he knows she's not ready for him to propose yet, but if and when that time arrives, he doesn't want to hesitate, so he wanted to be sure I understood his wishes and approved of them."

"That's exactly what just happened with me and Nefin," Knilf said with a jovial chuckle. "How long my little girl has loved that boy, though she has always been very sensible about it. I always worried she would end up with a broken heart. He just never seemed any closer to reciprocating her feelings. Now he suddenly does. A male elf and a female dwarf. A first, as far as I know. But Bodin will get a good laugh out of that one. Hanin was always joking with him that he ought to take an elf maid for a wife."

"Are you talking about me?" Hanin asked, approaching the circle of men in the courtyard sprawled out before the Great Hall.

Knilf jumped and turned to face Hanin. "You elves!" he declared in amusement. "So quiet and so keen of hearing. We're only discussing this afternoon's interesting events. It appears that all of our sons and daughters are falling in love and wanting to get married."

"Is that right?" Hanin said in surprise. "What do you mean?"

"Nefin just asked me if I would give him my blessing," Knilf explained.

"For Keeta's hand?" Hanin asked.

Knilf chortled and tugged on his beard. "Indeed, old friend. And what do you think about that?"

"I think it's wonderful!" Hanin exclaimed. "Nefin doesn't deserve her, but now that he finally realizes that, I'm much more supportive of the match."

"Are we now brothers in more than just order?" Varhog wondered, bringing the conversation full circle.

"If we want to be, I think we are," Murtagh decided. "It's wonderful to see this outcome after all of our hard work. For so many couples of mixed races to form will only mean good things for Alagaёsia, I'm sure of it."

The others made various signs of agreement then went their separate ways to inform their wives.

-:-:-

Eragon returned to his family's quarters, intending to find Arya and share the glad tidings. But he first ran into Zadí, as she exited a younger sibling's room.

"Father," she breathed in surprise as she turned. "Sorry to whisper. I just laid Ari down for her nap. You seem happy."

"I am, Zadí," Eragon said, holding out one hand to her, which Zadí immediately accepted with a smile, stepping toward her father—her first dance partner—and into his gentle arms. "Guess who I just spoke with?" he asked as he began a simple dance with his daughter.

Zadí furrowed her brow in confusion. "Um . . . mother?" she guessed.

"No," Eragon said with a soft laugh. "Var."

"Var?" Zadí repeated, the confusion still clouding her features for another moment. "Oh!" she then exclaimed. "Did he ask your permission?"

"That's right," Eragon confirmed. "And I gave it, of course. I'm happy for you, sweetheart."

"Thank you, father," Zadí whispered, moving closer so she could wrap her free arm around Eragon's waist and rest her head against his shoulder. "I'm happy too. And excited to get married. But can we still dance like this sometimes? Will I still be your little girl?"

"Always."

"Thank you, dada."

Eragon noticed when Zadí's tears began wetting his shirt. "What is it, sweetheart?"

"I don't know," Zadí admitted. "I'm just really grateful you're my father. I suddenly felt like I won't see you for a long time. I'll miss you."

"We'll only be gone for a week," Eragon reassured, looking up as Arya entered the room and walked over to them. She had heard the last words he and Zadí had spoken.

"Are you well, darling?" Arya asked Zadí.

Zadí lifted her head, smiling. "Yes, mother. I'm so blessed to have you both as my parents. I love you so much and felt I should tell you."

"Thank you, Zadí," Arya said, a look of mild surprise crossing her face. "Father told me of today's events." Eragon had done just that, communicating to Arya's mind. "Congratulations, darling. Var is a lucky man."

"And I'm a lucky girl," Zadí insisted. "Mother, may I wear your wedding gown to get married in?"

"Of course," Arya allowed. "In fact, I should just give it to you. My wedding was the only time I ever wore it, since I have never enjoyed wearing dresses and only do for the most formal of occasions. But I love that you have used it so frequently over the years to dress up and dance around in. It's yours, Zadí. Use it however you wish."

"Thank you, mother," Zadí fervently said. "I've always loved it, especially how it trails along on the ground since I'm shorter than you. I'll take good care of it."

"I know," Arya said, putting her arms around Zadí and Eragon and squeezing tightly. "Where's Ari?"

"She fell asleep for her nap just before father came in," Zadí said. "I'm anxious to go see Var. Would that be all right, if I'm back in time for dinner?"

"Absolutely," Eragon permitted. "We'll see you then." Arya took Zadí's place as their daughter swiftly ran from the room, and they took up the dance again, quietly conversing about the happy proceedings of the day and their anticipation of the upcoming anniversary celebration.

-:-:-:-


	49. Impressions

**49\. Impressions**

After dinner that evening, Varhog asked to speak with his sons alone. They each flew on their dragons to a clearing in the forest about fifteen minutes away from the city.

Once they had landed and were all on the ground, Varhog took a seat and motioned for his sons to join him. "Eragon and Murtagh told me about your meeting today," Varhog began. "I'm proud of you, sons. None of our wives had fathers for us three to approach, but I'm grateful you showed Eragon and Murtagh the proper respect."

The twins murmured their thanks, and Varhog went on, "I think you both understand the responsibility that goes along with being a husband, but I want to ensure you remember now that you're closer than ever to that time. By marrying these girls, you are promising to take care of them as their fathers always have. But Lena and Zadí will be even higher priorities for you than they were to their fathers, whose first priorities were obviously _their_ wives. You must always put them first over everything else in your lives." Will and Var nodded their understanding.

"With marriage comes one of the great pleasures of life," Varhog continued. "Once you are married, you boys will become men. You will be privileged to enjoy intimate love."

Varhog's face grew more serious. "Most of the married couples on the Isle are aware of the events surrounding the first week of my marriage to mother. We have chosen not to share them with you before, but mother and I both agree that the time is now right. You need to be careful with your wives."

Varhog briefly related the story of his wedding night and how his unintentional injury of Willow had led to such sorrow and pain, almost resulting in the end of the twins' lives before they even began. He concluded by saying, "That outcome—as close as it was to becoming reality—still haunts me. I can't imagine what our lives would be like without you boys. I am grateful every day that Arya had the knowledge to help mother. You have no idea how it felt to know I was fully responsible for almost killing my beloved wife and unborn children. You boys aren't as strong as I am, but you're plenty strong enough. Both Lena and Zadí are tall girls, but not as tall as mother, and they're both very slender. Be aware of that and don't let your passion get out of control before you know what to expect. I can promise you that you will never forget nor stop regretting if you accidentally hurt your wife while making love to her. Will you be careful?"

The wide-eyed expression on the twins' faces was exactly identical. Var spoke first. "Yes, father," he fervently promised. "I'll be careful."

"I promise, father," Will echoed. "I will too."

Varhog nodded. "Good. I'm excited for you. Being a husband, and eventually a father, is the greatest adventure you will ever experience. And you two are more prepared than any young men I know, along with Brom."

Will grinned. "Thanks to you, father. There's definitely not a better husband or father alive."

Varhog smiled. "It means more than I can express to hear you say that. Thank you, son. Now let's get back to the others."

-:-:-

Willow woke up the morning before the departure day after receiving an insistent impression in her sleep. She turned toward Varhog and smiled to see little Ollie snuggled in his father's huge arms. Oliver had taken to sleeping next to Varhog since he had weaned a couple of months earlier.

"Varhog," Willow whispered, not wanting to wake their son.

Varhog's eyes immediately opened. _What is it, Eartheyes?_

 _I need to go visit Brin,_ Willow replied. _I just didn't want you to wake up and worry._

Varhog curiously creased his brow but made no objection.

Willow reached over and laid a hand on his cheek. _Go back to sleep, sweetheart. I won't be gone long._ She brushed her fingers over Oliver's dark hair as she moved her hand away from Varhog. Then she slipped out of bed and quickly dressed, retrieving the needed item from her wardrobe and heading off in search of Brin.

-:-:-

Brin was already awake, as were all of the young Dragon Riders. Sleeping in wasn't allowed for those still in their training years, and Brin was meditating on the eastern cliffs overlooking the ocean. Sunburst informed her, _Sunset and Willow are approaching, Brin._

Brin startled out of her reverie. _That's odd. I wonder why._

 _We will soon find out,_ Sunburst replied.

And they soon did. Willow and Sunset landed but a few moments later. Willow swiftly dismounted and approached Brin.

"Good morning, Brin. Sorry to interrupt you."

"Hi, Aunt Willow. Not at all. Is everything all right?"

"I'm not sure," Willow honestly said. "I woke up this morning with the firm impression that I need to give this to you." She held out a bundle. "Consider it an early birthday present."

Brin immediately recognized the pale pink-orange color and gasped. "Your steel-silk armor. But why?"

"I don't know, Brin. But take it. And take good care of it. Not many people know about it, but it is very valuable to me."

Brin stared at her with wide eyes. Then she reverently accepted the folded shirt. "I will," she vowed. "Thank you. In Ellesméra, Rhunön mentioned that she thought I would need this. She seemed sure it would somehow work out that you would lend it to me. I'll return it to you when . . . I don't know when. I . . . I hope nothing bad happens, but . . ."

"But it certainly feels like it will," Willow gravely finished. "I know, Brin. But you're ready. All of you are ready. I will let you get back to your meditation. I need to return and finish packing. Take care of yourself and each other."

Brin nodded solemnly and watched her aunt fly away on Sunset.

-:-:-

Later that morning, while the children were playing after breakfast, Willow entered her bedroom to find Varhog packing. She handed him a book and said, "Pack this too."

Varhog looked at the well-worn, familiar book. "The twins' book? Their favorite book on ship building?"

Willow nodded.

"Why, Willow?"

Willow shrugged. "I don't know. But pack it."

"Are you having doubts about this vacation?" Varhog gently asked.

"I don't know if that's it," Willow carefully answered. "I haven't been this excited for something in a long, long while." She stepped to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. "We never got a real honeymoon, after all."

Varhog smiled, leaning down to kiss her forehead. "No, we didn't."

"And now, nine children later, I think I will appreciate it far more than I possibly could have twenty years ago. Though I'm softer and rounder in some places."

"Perfect," Varhog insisted. "You're still perfect in my eyes."

"As are you, Yelloweyes," Willow agreed, raising her hands to his beloved face where fine wrinkles were beginning to crease the corners of his eyes. "Not yet as grizzled as Kulkarvek, but getting there. Fifty-two now. We're not as young as we once were."

"But not old," Varhog said, smiling faintly at her teasing. "At least, you're not. After fifty, I think anyone starts feeling old."

"But at least your horns haven't started wearing away with age," Willow joked. "You once warned me that might happen. But they do seem to have stopped growing."

"Aye," Varhog agreed. "Our horns grow fastest in our twenties and thirties. After that, the growth slows considerably, though it never completely stops, and most of the gains in size occur in width, not length. I never did have a chance to ask my grandfather his secret for preserving his horns before you put him out of his misery."

Willow smiled. "I'm sure you'll figure it out. I never want them to go away." She slipped her arms around his neck and stretched onto her toes, kissing him once before softly saying, "No, I'm not having second thoughts about the trip. I just feel like we're on the verge of something big. Something life-changing. It's a strange impression of calm foreboding, if that makes any sense. Like it's going to happen regardless."

"We'll be fine, Willow," Varhog reassured. "As long as I'm with you, I can endure whatever might be expected of me."

"Yes," she agreed. "We have each other. And always will."

-:-:-:-


	50. Birthday Surprise

**50\. Birthday Surprise**

The day finally dawned for the seven couples leaving on the anniversary getaway and reunion to depart. The saddlebags were packed and ready, and the couples had already said many farewells to their adoring children. They repeated them yet again before mounting their dragons and taking to the skies. And all of the mated dragons were also going, of course. Thorn alone flew without his mate, and he was more anxious than any of them to land on the volcanic island where his lovely mate Snowfire awaited him.

After their parents left, the oldest children spent the hours until lunchtime playing as a large group with the youngsters so they wouldn't miss their mothers too much.

The day passed joyfully for all of the inhabitants remaining on the Isle, and once the littlest children were all asleep that evening, Keeta left her family's quarters—where her brother Kent was staying with their youngest siblings—and went to fly with Lightning. Though Brin had remembered Keeta's birthday, the big departure in the morning and the busyness of the remainder of the day caused everyone else to forget.

Keeta wasn't resentful, of course, but she did want to be with her dragon. She had seen Angela in yet another dream, and Keeta was more sure than ever that something big was about to happen. Maybe within days. For her dream had finally been as Brin's the previous year. All Angela first said was, _Be ready, Keeta. The time is_ very _near at hand._ After apparently debating over adding anything more, Angela then said, _I am proud of you, Keeta. You will see that your careful preparation was absolutely essential._

Keeta and Lightning left her family's quarters by walking out the huge doors, rather than flying, so the loud thundering of his wings wouldn't disturb the sleeping children. Keeta thought they might spot someone on their way out to the courtyard, but they didn't. The others must have been settling down with their families for the evening. All of the oldest youth wanted to be sure that their youngest siblings wouldn't miss their parents too greatly while they were gone, so they were being especially attentive and caring.

By the time they reached the courtyard, Lightning was already comforting her again. _Everything will be all right, Keeta,_ he reassured. _You have all prepared to the very best of your abilities._

 _Yes,_ Keeta replied as she strapped her legs into his saddle. _But what if something happens to you, Lightning?_

 _Dear one,_ Lightning gently interjected, _I do not know what to expect, but worrying about it even more will not help. Where would you like to fly?_

 _I don't know. I just know I won't be able to sleep for a while. But we don't need to go far. Maybe to the eastern cliffs so I can watch the moon rise._

So Lightning flew the short distance to the cliffs, and Keeta climbed down, sitting in front of him on the ground with her back resting against the front of his chest.

 _It's so beautiful,_ Keeta commented on the view.

 _Yes, dear one,_ Lightning agreed. _I do not see the twins' ship anchored down there on the beach._

 _No. Angela told them to move it from its usual location in their most recent birthday dream. But the_ Talíta _is still right down there, same as it always has been for over thirty years._

Sensing that Keeta was about to start obsessing again, Lightning interrupted, _Let us try to enjoy this time and the ocean._

So they quieted their mental dialogue and did as Lightning suggested. After about fifteen minutes, a soft rustling behind Lightning made Keeta's heart rate speed. She couldn't see anything around her dragon, but he had also heard, and he craned his neck to peer around behind himself. _It is Nefin,_ Lightning informed Keeta. _He wants to know if he can come around._

Keeta's pulse raced faster as she jumped up in surprise, smoothing her hands over her windswept hair. _Yes!_ she exclaimed, immediately guessing that Nefin had deliberately made an audible noise to alert them to his presence. He could be as quiet as a shadow when he wanted to be.

Nefin skirted Lightning, stopping in front of Keeta. It was hard for her to make him out by the dim light of the moon, but she knew Nefin could see her perfectly well. She gazed the long distance up into his face, trying to discover _any_ clue as to why he had shown up here.

Nefin surprised Keeta when he dropped to his knees in front of her and pulled her into a tight embrace. He didn't say anything, but Keeta guessed from the way his breathing sounded strained that he was experiencing some type of powerful emotion.

After an indefinite time, during which Keeta was trying not to let the reassurance of Nefin's familiar smell make her head swim, Nefin whispered, "Sorry, Keeta. Until we all got back from the Ceremony, I hadn't seen you in months. And there has never been a chance to talk before now. I was so worried about you when you were by yourself all that time."

He didn't pull back, and Keeta didn't know how to respond, so she said nothing. Nefin didn't let her go, though Keeta had never raised her arms to return his embrace. She wasn't sure how to act. What Nefin said was true. She had been away—mostly by herself—all of the spring and the first part of the summer. And while she had almost immediately forgiven him for what had happened in Ellesméra with Alanna—and had even almost been able to pretend she had forgotten about it with how busy and occupied she had been—now that they were alone and he was so close, the memory rushed back to her.

Nefin had been on his knees then too. His chest, which was right under Keeta's face, had been bare. But Keeta hadn't been in his arms. Oh no. _But it was magic, Keeta_ , she reminded herself. _He wasn't himself. He didn't want any of that, no matter how convincing the evidence to the contrary. And feel how he's holding you now. He wants_ this, _and there's no magic at work here._

So she finally managed to mutter, "Thank you, Nefin. That means a lot to me."

"I missed you, Keeta," Nefin gently said. "I'm just glad you're safe. And no one did anything for your birthday, so I had to make sure you knew not everyone had forgotten."

"Brin didn't," Keeta murmured, smiling faintly.

"But she's a female, your best friend, and was born only five days after you. Of course she remembered," Nefin rejoined. "I hoped it would mean something that a foolish male also had."

"You're not foolish, Nefin," Keeta protested. "And it does mean something. Especially since it was you."

Nefin finally pulled back and smiled at her, now from only a few inches above her since he was kneeling. Keeta tried not to start trembling at how beautiful he was, especially when he smiled, but to no avail. She briefly closed her eyes, looking straight ahead—at his neck—when she reopened them.

"Is something wrong?" Nefin asked in concern.

"Yes. But I'm not telling you what."

Nefin's brow creased. "Do you want me to leave?"

"No!" Keeta exclaimed. "I'm just embarrassed to tell you what's wrong, but it's nothing bad."

"I'm dreadfully curious, Keeta," Nefin wheedled.

Keeta smiled at the unfamiliar, cajoling tone of his voice. "I'm not telling," she firmly insisted. "Did you follow me here?"

"Yes," Nefin apologetically admitted. "I heard you and Lightning leaving as you passed our tree. I asked Hanna to stay with the little ones. I just ran so it wouldn't be as obvious as it would have been had I also flown. I wanted to give you your birthday present before it was too late."

Keeta pressed her lips together in an effort to keep the smile from becoming too infatuated and cheesy. _Nefin followed me to give me a gift!_ she joyfully thought. "You didn't have to, Nefin."

"But I wanted to. I left it back behind Lightning. Let me go get it." He jumped up, darted away, and was back in about three seconds, holding something behind his back. He knelt down again—a little farther away—and brought the wrapped bundle around in between them. "Happy birthday, Keeta."

Keeta couldn't temper her delight any longer, so she smiled as brightly as she had wanted to all along. "Thank you, Nefin!" she gushed as she accepted the gift from him, letting the cloth covering the present fall away and gasping when she recognized what she was holding.

"Nefin!" she cried in amazement, running her hands along the smooth, glossy surface of the yew bow in her hands. "It's _gorgeous_! Thank you!" She held the bow in one hand and threw both of her arms around his neck, _now_ returning the embrace she never had before.

Nefin slowly brought his arms up and circled them around Keeta's back. "You're welcome, Keeta," he murmured into her hair. "Rhunön helped, but I did most of the singing myself."

"You _sang_ this for me? How lovely! And it's the perfect size, of course. I love it, Nefin. So much! More than any other present I have ever received!" She was so thrilled that she planted a quick peck on his cheek before stepping away from him to more closely examine her bow . Out of the corner of her eye, Keeta noticed Nefin raise one hand and brush two fingers over the place on his cheek where her lips had touched him.

"I'm glad, Keeta. There's a quiver of arrows too. And a couple of other things from Rhunön, but this was the . . . main thing from me."

"The _main_ thing?" Keeta repeated, emphasizing the strange catch in his voice on the word main.

"Yes," Nefin said, without elaborating. "Let me grab the other things." He repeated the process of rising, removing himself a short distance—less quickly this time—and returning with new items in his hands. This time he sat on the ground, motioning Keeta to join him, and set everything down.

It was really getting dark by then, so Keeta murmured a spell to illuminate the area right between her and Nefin. Then she inspected what he had laid out. "My axe!" she delightedly cried. "But I thought Brin was going to make it."

"She was. But I insisted."

"Look at how beautiful it is! Lightning, it has exactly your coloring!" Lightning dipped his head down to carefully study the weapon while Keeta continued, "And my armor! Is this a helmet?" Keeta then asked, picking it up.

"Yes," Nefin said, his voice taking on a note of worry. "Rhunön thought you—out of all of us—would most need it. Since your head is so much lower, I suppose. Right at the level where most people would swing their weapons."

"That makes me feel _great_ ," Keeta wryly said. "But maybe it really does. I can't help that I'm short, so I will be grateful that Rhunön followed her instinct. When she did with Aunt Willow's armor, it saved _her_ life. Did you know Willow gave it to Brin? Her steel-silk armor?"

Nefin shook his head. "Interesting. Did you have another dream last night?"

"Yes," Keeta quietly confirmed. "But Nefin, I've already been worrying about it so much. Lightning has heard of almost nothing else since this morning. Can we please not talk about it?"

"If that's what you want, Keeta," Nefin reluctantly allowed. "But don't you think we others should know? Whatever's going to happen will surely affect us all."

"I'll tell everyone," Keeta promised. "But right now I just want to enjoy myself. This is the only birthday celebration I'll get."

Nefin smiled slightly and nodded. "Very well. Here's the quiver."

Keeta accepted it. "So lovely," she breathed. "Thank you, Nefin. The axe is splendid, but I love the bow so much more." Then she tossed her head to get her long hair behind her shoulders and stuffed the helmet on her head. "How do I look? Like a warrior?"

"The cutest warrior I've ever seen. With the rosiest cheeks and prettiest sparkling blue eyes."

Keeta blushed and suddenly regretted casting the spell that lit up the small area where they were sitting, since it would make her blush all too obvious for Nefin's keen eyes, though she hoped the helmet obscured it somewhat. "Thank you, Nefin-elda," she replied with an air of formal teasing, while removing the helmet from her head. "But if you want to see the prettiest blue eyes ever, you just need to look in a mirror."

Nefin shook his head and smiled. "Nope," he disagreed. "Do you want me to go now?"

"No, but I should probably get back so Kent doesn't have to worry about the little ones alone. Would you like to fly with me?"

"I would _love_ to. I'll put all of this in Lightning's saddlebag."

So he did. And for the first time since Arget had hatched, Nefin flew with Keeta on Lightning. From the way he wrapped his arms around her and held her close, Keeta knew he appreciated it more now than he ever had before.

-:-:-:-


	51. On the Tropical Island

**51\. On the Tropical Island**

The seven married couples arrived at their tropical destination in the early evening of the same day they left the Isle. Tomath, Elva, and Snowfire were eagerly awaiting them. After many exuberant greetings and embraces—among which were numerous exclamations of delight at Elva's obviously advanced stage of pregnancy—Tomath insisted on showing his beloved friends around the island that had been his home for nearly eight months.

During the six weeks Tomath had known the other Riders would be coming for a visit, he had used much of his endless free time to build the visitors their own personal dwelling for the anniversary trip, complete with a comfortable bed custom-made to fit each respective couple. He apologized that he hadn't had time to add more to the accommodations, but since none of them had any intention of staying longer than the planned week, they weren't concerned with the lack of plumbing they were used to on the Isle.

They spent the first night unpacking and storing their belongings in these huts. Then the eight couples gathered together for their first dinner and evening away from their children in close to twenty years for many of them.

Because of the long flight that day, most of the couples decided to retire early, anticipating the luxury of being able to sleep in the following morning. But Willow and Varhog stayed longer to catch up with Tomath and Elva, for the closeness of Willow and Tomath's relationship had never faded over the years.

The older couple learned that Elva was now thirty-seven weeks along in her pregnancy, and Willow was elated. "So the baby could be born at any time with every chance of surviving!" Willow exclaimed.

"Yes," Elva joyfully responded. "Tomath and I are so excited to finally be parents. It has been difficult for him to be so isolated out here, but I think it was necessary for me. I have gotten quite good at controlling my ability to perceive the pain or suffering of others, but it was difficult in Ilirea to avoid old habits. I had become so used to automatically assessing the wellbeing of the royal family that it was difficult to turn it off."

"You know I haven't minded a bit, Elva," Tomath insisted.

"Of course, dear," Elva agreed, favoring her loyal husband with a lovely smile. "You have never complained even once. But," she added as she turned back to Willow, "I think we have more than fulfilled any desire we might have felt to make the most of our last days as only a couple. It might take another twenty years before we want to get away from the children as you all have."

"Do you think you'll have to go through the same seclusion with every baby?" Willow asked.

"I'm not sure," Elva responded. "Possibly. But I'm hoping I won't. We want to be closer to everyone we love. And Snowfire missed Thorn dreadfully. At least Tomath and I had each other."

The conversation continued on well into the night before Willow had to apologize for her weariness and she and Varhog left.

-:-:-

The week leading up to Eragon and Arya's twentieth wedding anniversary was one of the most enjoyable of their many years together. Each day of their getaway was as relaxing and carefree as one could imagine. Every morning they slept in. They ate the finest, most delightful food possible, which grew in an even more abundant and succulent variety than it did on the Isle, thanks to the volcanic soil.

Tomath had taken all who were interested on many tours to detail the wonders and attractions of the island. Some of these they engaged in on foot, whereas others they enjoyed while flying. The island was unbelievably gorgeous. Majestic waterfalls cascaded from towering cliffs into crystal pools. Luscious, verdant greenery swathed every surface in every conceivable form—tree, bush, grass, fern, and moss. And the endless diversity of flowers created a mesmerizing palette of color everywhere the eye turned, while also filling the air with the sweetest smells imaginable.

The wildlife was exotic and stunning, and Tomath reassured them that none of the more dangerous predators would venture near, given the proximity of so many dragons. A fair few had already learned their lesson after ending up as Snowfire's unsuspecting dinner. But the gentler creatures were visible on these tours, and the visitors never ceased to delight in observing the chattering monkeys, the trilling birds, the vibrant insects and amphibians—some of which were an astonishing size—and the unending array of underwater creatures.

Each afternoon, simply because they could, most of the couples napped together, usually after engaging in more energetic forms of interaction. The women unanimously agreed that it felt like they were trying to catch up on almost two decades' worth of sleep deprivation, which only a mother of babies or young children would adequately appreciate. As a result, most of the couples remained awake long into the night—well past midnight—chatting, playing games, and otherwise enjoying one another's company without the needs of any little people to interrupt them.

Their friends made sure—with the help of supplies packed from the Isle—that Eragon and Arya had a cake for their anniversary, though one might have argued it was hardly customary. But the couple of honor appreciated the gesture, and all of their friends also enjoyed the dessert with them as they visited around the campfire that night.

As an anniversary gift, Eragon presented his beloved with a fairth of their entire family, made during a family outing to Lake Arya. Arya reciprocated by giving Eragon a fairth of himself and Saphira. Eragon was amazed to realize that it was the first time he had ever thought about having a fairth with his dragon in it, and he naturally loved the present, as Arya did hers.

-:-:-:-


	52. Back on the Isle

**52\. Back on the Isle**

While their parents were away, Will took Lena flying one day on Glimmer. They flew farther than they usually did when going off by themselves. Will's destination was Lake Arya, as he knew they wouldn't be disturbed there. He had made all of the necessary preparations for an outing of many hours, and when they arrived at the lake, Will set out the picnic he had packed.

After eating and talking on the shore for some time, Lena suggested they should swim. It was getting quite hot in the afternoon sun.

Will immediately agreed. Before entering the water, he removed his shirt, noticing that Lena's eyes fell on the blue ring he always wore on its chain around his neck.

"I want to wear mine on my finger," Lena casually commented as she dressed down to the modest undergarments she intended to swim in.

Will grinned and took off his boots and socks. "You shall. Oh, why wait any longer? You know that's why I brought you here, don't you, Lena?" He dropped to one knee in front of her, grasping both of her hands in his. Without any nervousness or hesitation, Will firmly asked, "Lena, will you marry me?"

Lena smiled joyfully and nodded. "Yes, Will. I will."

Will reached up to undo the chain around her neck. He slid the golden ring off, slipped it on her finger, and refastened the chain as a necklace. Then, while still on his knees, he pulled her close and nestled his face against her bosom. "Thank you, honey. I'm so excited to be your husband. I spoke with your father and told him we want to be married after they get back. He wholeheartedly agreed. So we won't need to wait much longer."

"Good," Lena murmured, running her hands around his horns and through his hair. Will lifted his face to hers, and Lena leaned down to kiss him. When she pulled back, she was smiling. "Is that how it always feels for you?"

Will knew his eyes must be full of the same longing he always felt after kissing Lena on the lips—thanks to his part Urgal blood—but he carefully controlled it and asked, "What do you mean?"

"When you have to lean down to kiss me?"

"Hmm," Will mused. "I don't know. Try it again and I'll pay better attention this time."

Lena laughed and obliged. Will pulled back the second time and rested his face against her, breathing slightly deeper than usual. Lena placed her chin on top of his head between his horns.

"Since I don't know how it usually feels for you when I have to lean down to kiss you, I can't say," Will finally managed. "But we had better not do anymore experimenting right now. You often rest your face against my chest after, which I love, but I doubt it has the same effect on you as what I'm currently doing has on me." He reluctantly lifted his face away from her soft chest. "You smell so amazing," he added.

Then Will stood, surprised her by snatching her up and tossing her over his shoulder, and recklessly charged into the water, where he intentionally fell down and took them both under. When they surfaced, both he and Lena were laughing, and she was spluttering. She pushed him indignantly, and he acted like it was enough to send him under again. Their swim, which was really just more lighthearted play and flirting, continued for some time.

When they had both had enough, they crawled out of the water and snuggled in one another's arms on the warm sand to dry in the sun, each content with the knowledge that in as little as a week, they might be able to enjoy the same embrace as man and wife.

-:-:-

Keeta didn't find the time to keep her promise to Nefin and tell her friends about her birthday dream until the day before Brin's eighteenth birthday, which coincided with the day of Eragon and Arya's anniversary.

They each seemed as concerned by Angela's words as Keeta was. And they agreed on the fact that since Keeta was the last to hear the familiar warning that had begun the previous year, the event Angela was preparing them for would happen before Brin's birthday.

"Which means sometime today," Brin anxiously concluded.

"Most likely tonight," Brom added. "Bad things always seem to happen at night, don't they? We should stay together, just in case."

"The children might like the idea of a group sleepover in the Great Hall," Var suggested.

"But whatever might happen could be dangerous!" Hanna worried. "Would they be safer in our families' living quarters?"

"We can have the other Riders stay in there with them, along with some of the elves, while we sleep outside in the courtyard," Will said, apparently thinking along the same lines as his twin brother.

"If something crazy happens," Brom reasoned, "it probably _would_ be less chaotic to know everyone was accounted for, rather than trying to run around from room to room."

"Why wouldn't we just use our minds to communicate?" Hanna wondered, still concerned.

"We have to be prepared for any eventuality, including one where magic might not serve us," Brom said. "Remember what Angela told me on my birthday? Well, maybe you don't remember everything because it was a lot, but what I'm specifically thinking of is when she told me we will only succeed as a team."

Hanna reluctantly nodded, and the ten friends set about preparing for the sleeping arrangement they had discussed.

The ten friends quickly learned that their younger siblings were thrilled by the idea of a communal sleepover in the Great Hall, and it had taken many hours—after a rambunctious pillow fight and seemingly endless whispering—for the youngsters to finally settle down enough to sleep.

The older youth in the courtyard experienced the same difficulty, though for different reasons. There was obviously their anxiety about the feeling of impending doom. On top of that, there were the many romantic overtures. Will and Var, along with Lena and Zadí, were the only four sure of what they felt and wanted. A couple of the other males were equally as certain of what they wanted, though the females in question were still uncertain about moving forward to marriage.

Will and Lena fell asleep in one another's arms, reassured by the thought that the presence of their eight friends would keep them from getting carried away in their affectionate expressions. Sleep found Var and Zadí facing one another and holding hands. Brin and Keeta lay close to each other, whispering in their minds for fear that the two boys who fancied them might even be able to overhear their _thoughts_. Sleep eventually overtook them as well.

Brom and Nefin positioned themselves on the outskirts of the group, with Brom a small distance behind Brin and Nefin not far from Keeta. Ajh and Hanna stayed close to their siblings, for while they were beginning to suspect their growing regard, it was still in the initial stages. Hanna was far too worried to think about romance that night, yet she also soon fell into her waking dreams. Brom and Nefin stayed awake the longest, though sometime after midnight, they ultimately succumbed to exhaustion. Taking care of so many younger siblings was far harder than they had expected, and it had given the group of ten a much deeper appreciation for all their parents did in addition to their Dragon Rider responsibilities.

The clearest clue that the seven Dragon Riders and their three siblings weren't simply enjoying a fun night together was in the fact that all of them who had weapons were sleeping with them nearby. And their seven dragons formed a protective circle around them in their sleep.

-:-:-:-


	53. Tenga's Revenge

**53\. Tenga's Revenge**

Tenga stood above the twin sisters cowering on the ground at his feet. Arguably the two most important members of the entire elven race, at least as far as Dragon Riders were concerned. For these two women had been chosen millennia before to protect the Dragon Rider pact.

 _The last piece of my puzzle,_ Tenga triumphantly thought. The first, of course, was magically reduced to the size of a pinprick and hovered somewhere behind Tenga's right shoulder, for he was the ancient hermit who had first discovered how to fold large or heavy objects in on themselves to transport long distances or simply to hide them. And Tenga was using his original spell for both purposes at the moment.

The sisters had once been covered in a vibrant iridescent tattoo, which, between the two of them, had formed the image of a rainbow-colored dragon. But now the Caretakers' skin was bare. Tenga had used the strength of the Eldunarí— _the_ Eldunarí, one might say—he was carrying to wrest the knowledge he needed from Iduna and Nёya's minds. Using that information and the same power source, he had forced them to perform the song and dance that would give form to the spectral dragon. Once it had leaped from the surface of the twins' skin, Tenga had magically torn it free and stored it along with the Eldunarí.

 _So the physical representation of the Dragon Rider pact is now ruined,_ Tenga thought with grim satisfaction. He could have completed his plan right at that moment, but that would diminish the import of his accomplishment. So Tenga decided to wait to perform the spell until he would be able to witness the effect it had on his intended victims.

 _And what to do about these women?_ Tenga mused. He could leave them here—naked, bound, helpless—for he had the power to force them to remain in their current location forevermore. But they might be discovered. It was possible that the elves might be angry enough to begin searching for Tenga. And it was also possible—but not probable—that the combined magical capacity of the elves would be enough to stand against Tenga, even with his newfound power enhancement, though Tenga wondered if destroying the Dragon Rider pact would adversely affect the elven race in unforeseen ways.

 _All the better,_ he absently thought.

Or, if the sisters were never discovered, they would starve to death, which really didn't figure into Tenga's plans one way or the other, except to ensure that his plot would never be reversed. But he decided not to risk them being discovered. He would bring Iduna and Nёya with him. And maybe _then_ he would let them starve to death, in a place no one would ever find them.

As Tenga once again regarded them with a haughty stare, a new—or at least, long-buried—sensation blossomed somewhere deep inside him. This was a passion he hadn't felt in . . . well, who could really keep track as the decades bled into centuries stretched into millennia? Surely at least since Angela had abandoned him. Angela and her misbegotten werecat.

Oh, how Tenga despised werecats! And yet, they had been instrumental in the success of his plan, which was even now in its final stages of execution. He considered it fitting treatment of the arrogant feline species—which always thought itself above the affairs of the land—that he had tortured and coerced a few key members into revealing all of the significant details needed to guarantee Tenga's success. Yes, he had indeed taken his revenge on the werecats, for he had always blamed Solembum that Angela had left.

And thinking about revenge inspired an entirely new element in Tenga's overall plot. For this was all about vengeance, when it came right down to it. Revenge on the meddling high queen for trying to interfere in Tenga's life when he had done nothing to harm anyone.

While Tenga was no killer, he certainly had a mean streak, for he was, after all, a man who kicked at cats. But in this instance, he had seriously considered murder. Murdering the high queen seemed just retribution for all she had put him through. But a new, more sinister idea entered his mind as he stared down at the two naked women before him. Elves held no appeal for him—too angular, thin, and hairless for Tenga's tastes. Did he really still have tastes, ancient, shriveled man that he was? Apparently. And they were now being reawakened.

No, not the elven sisters. But a lovely maiden with dark, curly hair—like Angela—was another story entirely. And round ears of course. The girl Tenga had in mind would perfectly serve all of his purposes. But above all, she would guarantee that his revenge would be sweet. So much sweeter than he had initially anticipated.

With a cruel smile now twisting his contemptuous glare, Tenga added the twins to his growing stash and continued on his way. Tenga might have been ancient, but he was by no means slow—physically nor mentally. His mind was as sharp as ever, though blighted by the chilling stain of insanity. And he could travel faster than the fastest dragon when he wished, especially now that his apathetic power source—a dragon, as irony would have it—provided him with an endless supply of energy. A deranged titter escaped between Tenga's crooked yellow teeth as he sped toward the Isle of the Eldunarí.

-:-:-

Brin's dream started not long after the last of her friends drifted off. And it didn't last long. Angela briefly appeared and all but shouted, _Brin, it's happening_ now! _Wake Brom and tell him to shield himself but to avoid fighting back! And be calm!_

Then Angela was gone. Brin's eyes flew open. She had time to realize that she had turned toward Brom in her sleep and he had reached his hand over until his fingers lightly rested in her palm. But that was all she noticed before she hissed, "Brom!" His eyes snapped open. "Shield your mind! It's happening now! But don't fight back!"

Brin sprang to her feet with her sword in one hand and her dagger in the other. She didn't know what she was facing, but she wanted to be ready. Then she dropped both weapons and gasped, clutching at her head.

 _Sunburst?_ she cried. _Sunburst!_

-:-:-

Brom was awake the instant Brin whispered his name, shielding his mind in the same moment and also making himself invisible for good measure. Immediately after that, he was aware of an incredible, fathomless store of magical energy careening toward the Isle like a meteor. _What_ is _that?_ he thought in amazed incredulity. Brom had never sensed such a vast accumulation of power.

At the same time that Brin dropped her weapons and doubled over, Brom felt his connection with Talon's mind abruptly end. But Brom could still sense Talon right where he was, only a dozen feet away.

 _Talon?_ Brom tentatively thought, touching his dragon's familiar mind, though it no longer appeared to be bonded to his. Brom jumped as his dragon startled awake and roared in fury. And suddenly Talon's mind was no longer familiar. Wild. That was the only way Brom could describe it.

 _Talon is a wild dragon,_ Brom thought in shock. _What is going on?_

Talon's roar woke the others—people and dragons alike. But Hanna and Nefin stayed slumped over on the ground. Brom's mind worked furiously to understand what was happening.

Brin began moaning, "Sunburst, Sunburst," over and over, and Brom realized she must have felt the same cessation of contact with her dragon.

"She's not dead, Brin," Brom tried to reassure, but his voice was lost in the sudden cries of his other Dragon Rider friends.

The first words out of the twins' mouths when they awakened were their dragons' names. The same was true for Ajh. Keeta stumbled away from the group toward where Lightning had curled up for the evening.

"Keeta!" Brom called. "Stay here!" Keeta didn't seem to hear.

"Brin," Brom urgently instructed. "Go get her and bring her back to the others. It isn't safe to be near the dragons right now."

Brin grunted. "I can't move, Brom," she forced out between clenched teeth.

Brom's confusion only increased. Why could Keeta move but not Brin? Was Keeta not perceived as a threat, like some of the others? But who was categorizing such a thing? Maybe the elves were also seen as dangerous, thus explaining their unconsciousness. And that would also clarify why Brin had warned him to shield himself, otherwise Brom would likely be lying helplessly on the ground, for his outward appearance and magical abilities were elven in every respect.

Brom darted to Keeta, squatting in front of her. "Keeta!" he whispered, and she started as his voice seemed to issue forth out of nothingness. Brom continued, "Return to the others. It's not safe to go near the dragons right now."

"But Lightning," Keeta whimpered, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I can't feel him anymore."

"I know," Brom said. "But he's still fine. We just need to stay together and stay safe." Brom was relieved when Keeta obeyed him by turning to make her way back to Brin.

Now Will's increasingly strained cries changed from "Glimmer!" to "Lena! Lena, where are you going?"

Brom whirled in the direction of Will's panicked shout. Lena was moving away from the group like she was sleepwalking. Will desperately tried to follow her, but some invisible force was holding him rigidly in place and his ability to speak also appeared to have ceased. His effort was apparent only in his eyes, for he seemingly couldn't otherwise move a muscle, just as Brin hadn't been able to.

Brom touched Lena's mind, grateful they had practiced her mental defensive measures so frequently and that she would recognize him. Her mind was clear, but she wasn't acting of her own volition.

While carefully shielding his mental communication from outside observation, Brom thought, _Lena, where are you going?_

Lena's responding thoughts were frantic. _I don't know! But I can't stop myself! Help me, Brom!_

Brom remembered Brin's warning not to fight back. He looked beyond Lena in the direction she was walking and was once again nearly blinded by the glaring force of energy that assailed him, which he had—unbelievably—forgotten about in the chaos of the moment. But then Brom realized he was only seeing that with his mental eyes. He immediately turned off that line of sight—the glaring white light blazing brighter than the sun mercifully winked out—and with his physical eyes saw an unassuming old man. He carefully entered the man's mind while hiding his presence, and without really comprehending how, Brom suddenly knew this man was Tenga. And he was kidnapping Lena.

But Brom wasn't supposed to fight back and he understood exactly why. Tenga was drawing off the immeasurable supply of energy behind him, which Brom easily identified as an Eldunarí. But he also instantly knew it wasn't one of _their_ Eldunarí. All of the other Eldunarí on the Isle could have fit into this one with room to spare. Brom had never imagined that such an enormous living object could even exist, and trying to comprehend the size of the dragon the Eldunarí had once resided in boggled Brom's mind. The Beor mountain range was all he could picture, but Brom knew that wouldn't be possible. Still, that was the magnitude of energy emanating from the Eldunarí.

Lena was almost to the man, and Brom suddenly knew his time was short. There was nothing he could do to stop Tenga from taking her unless he wanted to be killed right then, but he had to warn her. She was their only hope now.

 _Lena,_ he insistently thought, still shielding his message so Tenga—who was obviously controlling Lena through her mind—wouldn't hear. _Lena, I'm so sorry I can't help you! But we'll come for you! We're not Dragon Riders anymore. Tenga—that's the man you're walking toward—has somehow erased our bonds. Figure out how! And find out anything you can about that Eldunarí! I know it's hidden from your sight right now, but Tenga is drawing power from an Eldunarí as large as the entire_ Cave _of the Eldunarí. I'll never be able to withstand him as long as he's borrowing energy from it. Be careful. We'll come! Remember what we practiced and keep this hidden from him. Lena, I'm sorry—_ But then she was quickly going away.

Before Tenga's mind was too far for Brom to sense, he saw that the old magician knew where their parents were and was heading there now, traveling at an impossible speed.

-:-:-:-


	54. Anniversary Gone Awry

**54\. Anniversary Gone Awry**

Eragon and Arya were enjoying a lively discussion with their friends around a warm fire. The anniversary cake was gone, and it was well after midnight, but no one seemed tired thanks to their midafternoon naps.

Knilf had just finished telling a joke, and the conversation lulled as the laughter died away. Eragon noticed Elva raise a hand to her temple and rub gingerly. Her other hand immediately went to her distended womb, which tightened noticeably under her touch.

Tomath turned to Elva in concern. "Turn it off, sweetheart!" he urged. "The baby!"

But Elva moaned, sagging into her husband. "Your dragons!" she cried. "Something terrible is going to happen! They're all . . . going . . . to . . . die . . ." Each word came out more strained than the one before. Then Elva shrieked, clutching first her head followed instantly by her womb. "No! Such sorrow! Such anguish! Tomath!" She passed out.

Tomath's terror was etched in his face as he kept Elva from collapsing to the ground. He looked up, his eyes darting wildly around the circle of people. "The baby's coming!"

Eragon—along with everyone else—was transfixed by this frightening scene. When he sensed Arya begin to stand, apparently intent on going to Elva, Eragon tore his gaze away from Tomath's tortured face. Arya hadn't taken two full steps before Eragon suddenly heard Brom's voice issuing forth from the small enchanted mirror Arya carried with her everywhere she went, just as all the Riders did.

Before Arya had even been able to retrieve the mirror from her pocket in order to see Brom, he was shouting, "Mother! There isn't any time! Tenga's going there right now, where you are! He was just here, and he kidnapped Lena. He has somehow managed—"

But Brom's message was cut short when the mirror in Arya's hands shattered as if someone had crushed it under their heel. At the same moment, Arya, Hanin, and Maehrí all began to crumple toward the ground. Eragon sprang up and caught Arya in his arms before she landed.

Hanin slumped into Grintuk, who caught him in surprise and gently lowered him down. Varhog did the same with Maehrí, who had fallen the other direction and would have bashed her head on the ground. The two Urgals looked up in confusion.

"Arya!" Eragon anxiously cried, gazing helplessly down into Arya's blank face. But he had no more time to consider his wife's mysterious condition, for right then, part of Eragon's mind died. _Saphira!_ he shouted in agony.

He was barely aware that almost everyone else in the circle—save Nasuada, Greta, and obviously Elva and the elves—was experiencing the exact same devastation. But an inexplicable force abruptly demanded his attention, and while Eragon's body froze in place, he found his head turning toward the beach at the sound of a wheezing, tittering voice.

"Ah, so delightful!" the voice cackled. "What you must be going through, dear friends. We _should_ be friends. Oh, so we should. I was friends with the ancient Riders. But one among you has ensured that friendship will never exist between old Tenga and the modern Dragon Riders."

Eragon recognized the old man lazily making his way—with Lena by his side—up the beach toward the group surrounding the fire. Even if Tenga hadn't named himself, Eragon would have recognized the insane, rambling, ancient man. Eragon wanted to speak, but he couldn't open his mouth.

"No, none of you can speak," Tenga regretfully tittered. "Hee! No, indeed! I learned my lesson after hearing your children shouting back on the Isle. Don't you fret. I haven't harmed anyone. And the elves? Couldn't have them trying anything sneaky, now could I? That's why I rendered them unconscious, isn't it? Never you fear, Shadeslayer," he reassured Eragon. "Your little wifey will recover, so she will. But not while I'm here. It's for the best, for if any of them _had_ tried to attack, why I would have had no choice but to kill them. And also don't worry about your partner of heart and mind. She's not dead. Just wild."

Tenga released a jittery giggle. "Oh yes! Wild, wild, wild. The dragons are all wild now, so they are! And the Dragon Riders are no more. Your dragons no longer remember you. They remember nothing about their decades of life being bonded to the frail, sniveling two-legs. Oh dear me, dear me. I do believe they might simply fly away! And where will that leave you, dear friends? Stranded? Yes, I do believe that's right. Stranded on a desert island!" And he dissolved into a fit of seemingly irrepressible twittering.

Then Tenga's mad tirade abruptly ended as he stopped next to Murtagh and Nasuada, crouching down behind them. His eyes were suddenly cold, calculating, and full of deep hatred.

"What did I ever do to you?" he whispered in Nasuada's ear, his voice icy and chilling. "Tell me that. What did I _ever_ do to you!" Tenga lifted one crooked finger to her cheek and ran it along her skin. Murtagh's fury was visible in his eyes, but he appeared to be just as immobile as Eragon.

Tenga turned a casual eye on Murtagh. "Feeling a bit helpless, are we, Your Highness? Well, you are. Powerless. Just a regular man now. No magical abilities whatsoever. As it should be. No man or woman should have their otherwise mundane life vaulted to that of near invincibility by having a dragon hatch for them. Like gods, you are. Think you're so strong, so wise. Well, I haven't lived for centuries on borrowed ability. I have only imitated that trait within the past week, for it was necessary in the fulfillment of my plan, which I have now successfully implemented."

Tenga barked a cold, humorless laugh completely opposite his nervous tittering of moments before. Then he continued in a cunning tone, "But you should also be grateful, Your Majesty, Your Highness, for part of that plan was the murder of the high queen. It seemed only right after she ruined my peaceful, unobtrusive life. I never hurt anyone, never planned to. Yes, I'm powerful, but I had no intention of using that to injure anyone. Was that enough? No, indeed."

Then Tenga turned to Lena. His face filled with what could only be described as lust, though it seemed very rusty and hesitant. "But my new form of revenge is much more to my liking. I'm not a killer. Not deep down. So I decided to take your oldest daughter. Ironic, don't you think? The crown princess of Alagaёsia will now be a slave to the most powerful force in the land. Never fear. I shan't harm her. And if she behaves, I will even be kind. She may prove more useful than a scullery maid or servant girl. Perhaps she will provide old Tenga with greater pleasure than food and drink brought on a silver platter." Another jumpy titter escaped his throat, apparently without his conscious awareness.

Lena also appeared to be frozen in whatever spell Tenga had restrained the rest with. Her eyes, which had until that moment been defiant and disdainful, betrayed the first trace of fear at his final words, but Tenga didn't notice. He turned his attention back to Murtagh.

"But never forget, young man," he menacingly breathed. "I wanted to kill your wife. And I would have. Oh, I could, true enough. I could kill you all. But where would be the fun in that? It's so much more delightful imagining you all here, struggling to survive without the magic and dragons you've come to rely on so heavily. Just normal humans, dwarves, and Urgals now. The elves could use magic before bonding with the dragons, so they could, and so they will be able to still. But not as powerfully, and that ability may fade as time goes on, for it initially sprang up after that race formed the bond with the dragons so many millennia ago. And will any of you even have a desire to live? We shall see. But I'll be far from here, leaving you to your misery. We shall just see what comes of Alagaёsia without the royal family and the Dragon Riders around."

Tenga turned to the others, raising a hand to close around Lena's arm. Eragon, who had been observing the scene with growing dread and hopelessness, happened to notice that Lena now wore a golden ring on her left hand's third finger. Will must have proposed, but cruel, cruel fate had separated them at the most agonizing moment. Eragon's eyes filled with tears as Lena looked at her father with apologetic, pleading despair. _Help me,_ she seemed to say. And Murtagh's wordless reply was equally as devastating. _I can't._

Tenga, who was oblivious to this silent exchange between father and daughter, smiled brightly and offered a cheery wave. "Ta ta!" he breezily cried. "Do enjoy yourselves, dear friends. For I certainly shall, now that I need no longer fear the Dragon Riders interfering in affairs that ought not to concern them." And with that, he suddenly seemed to disappear, though Eragon's sharp eyes noticed that he actually just departed at such a dizzying speed that it simply mimicked an abrupt disappearance.

When the old wizard had put sufficient distance between himself and the island, the spell holding everyone in place dissolved. Eragon forced himself to kneel slowly so as not to harm Arya, though his body wanted to crumple to the ground and curl up into a tight ball. He raised his head when Murtagh let out a strangled cry of protest, jogging unsteadily down the beach and several steps into the water.

"Lena!" Murtagh desperately shouted. "Lena!" Then his legs gave out and he landed on his knees, waist-deep in the water. "Lena," he moaned, hanging his head in misery.

-:-:-:-

The End of Part One

* * *

 **A/N:** So that's Part One. Though you got a little insight into the workings of Tenga's plot in this chapter, I'll elaborate in more detail in upcoming chapters. I'm curious what you all think. If any of you have tried to write a bad guy for an IC fic, you probably understand the dilemma I faced. Trying to make a believable villain who wouldn't immediately be squashed by the Dragon Riders or the use of the name of names is harder than you might think. In _The Cycle Continues,_ I struggled to make King Kulkarvek a plausible threat, and I had to revisit the curse Galbatorix casts on him several times before I felt like I had taken into account all of the loopholes that might have existed.

When Paolini wrote the Dragon Riders as he did, he practically made them gods. They're so powerful that almost no one can stand against them. So, short of another Dragon Rider war (I didn't like the idea of my Riders turning on each other), which is exactly what Paolini already did (and which therefore seemed too repetitive), I decided that undoing the Dragon Riders would be my conflict for this book. And Tenga was very intriguing to me as an antagonist. He never seemed really evil in IC (he had such a minor appearance anyway), but I did get the sense that he had a mean streak and he also seemed loony, which made for some interesting potential. He just finally got fed up enough to retaliate in a major way.


	55. Part II 1 Speculation

**PART TWO**

 **1\. Speculation**

Back on the Isle of the Eldunarí, things were far more chaotic and panicked. As soon as Tenga was gone, Brom immediately scryed his mother to try to warn them. His spell had been terminated only seconds after he started speaking, which, he assumed, could only mean Tenga had arrived and already frozen all magical effort. From that moment on, Brom resolved not to contact his mother, who could undoubtedly still use magic, just as he and the other elves, so as to not give Tenga any clue of his existence. It would be best for them all if Tenga never knew of Brom or his skill until it was hopefully too late for him to do anything about it. Brom decided he would ask Nefin or Hanna to communicate with their parents via scrying, since Tenga obviously already knew about them and their elven magical abilities. Why else would he have rendered them unconscious during his attack?

The next most pressing matter was getting the dragons to leave. They had all awakened within minutes of Talon's furious roar. Keeta had been the closest to reaching her dragon, since Tenga hadn't immobilized her, but once Tenga's spell ceased, the others were equally as anxious as Keeta.

Brom spoke directly into their minds, knowing verbal words would just as likely be useless. _Everyone stay here. Somehow we're not Dragon Riders anymore. I already tried talking to Talon, but he doesn't recognize or remember me at all. They are wild, and wild dragons would never consider letting two-legs approach or communicate with them without reason. They are also very confused and disoriented, which will make them even more dangerous. They don't remember us and are wondering where they are and why they are here. I'm going to try to vaguely suggest that they leave so none of us gets hurt._

Brom was relieved when all of his friends stayed in place. _Sit down,_ he added. _Just in case._

Then Brom tried anonymously touching the seven dragons' minds—also including any other nearby and formerly bonded dragons—with an image of the nearest island that was a nesting ground and home for some of the wild dragons. Without using a verbal language that would identify himself as a two-legged sentient being, Brom conveyed a picture of many other dragons flying and living there, as well as a sense of belonging and purpose.

 _Please,_ he thought to himself. _Please work._ The best he and his friends would be able to do to protect themselves against seven huge, angry wild dragons would be to guard against their flames until they stopped breathing them. But to fight them off? All of the Dragon Riders were incredible fighters, but they didn't have the weapons needed to fight off adult dragons, nor would any of them be able to turn against and harm some of their closest friends, even if they did.

In their confusion, Glimmer and Blackfire, the oldest female dragons, actually _did_ start haphazardly breathing their fire. Brom did just as he was prepared to do, immediately casting the ward that would prevent the heat from harming his friends, grateful that Hanna had enough presence of mind—for she wasn't dealing with the shock of losing a bond with a dragon—to help him.

Talon, who had always been a leader of the younger Dragon Riders' dragons, just as Brom always was among his friends, finally leaped into the sky, heading toward the island Brom had suggested he go to. The other dragons, who apparently remembered one another, though none of them spared more than a bewildered glance in the direction of the ten youth grouped together between them, followed suit and flew after Talon within a few seconds of him leaving.

Brom breathed a sigh of relief as he released his spell. "Everyone stay calm," he instructed. "We need to go inside and see how things are going in there, make sure everyone is safe. Then I will explain all I can about what just happened, though my knowledge is far from complete."

"Lena," Will desperately whispered. "What happened? Please at least tell me that much right now."

Brom stared at him in compassion. "I can't do that very well without simply delving into everything," he gently said. "She was kidnapped, Will. But the man who took her means her no harm."

"Who took her?" Will insisted, his hands clenched into trembling fists. "Who was that man?"

"Tenga," Brom answered. "I promise I'll explain. Now let's go."

-:-:-

Their younger siblings were clearly fine. Most of them had simply slept through the confusion, since the elves inside had been incapacitated in the same way Nefin and Hanna had and hearing a dragon roar outside the Great Hall wasn't anything new to any of them. So the ten youth gathered in the courtyard with the elves and other Dragon Riders on the Isle, along with their siblings closest in age, allowing the youngest children to remain undisturbed inside.

Brom naturally took charge because he was the only one with any awareness of what had actually transpired. He began, "Brin woke me up in time for me to shield myself from Tenga, who somehow discovered a way to cancel our bonds as Dragon Riders and make our dragons forget us."

To the other Dragon Riders, who were still dazed and disbelieving, Brom reassured, "Your dragons are fine. I encouraged most of them to simply leave along with ours, which is for the best. I'm just grateful no one was hurt. We will have to hope what Tenga did can be undone. Anyway, the first thing I noticed after I shielded and made myself invisible was an incredible source of energy descending toward the Isle. It was a white Eldunarí, larger than the whole Cave of the Eldunarí. Tenga had magically reduced it to hide and carry behind himself, but I noticed it energetically. He was drawing off its power, something the dragon seemed completely apathetic about.

"The best I can figure is that Tenga came here only to perform the spell needed to complete his plan, which somehow involved that Eldunarí, as well as to kidnap Lena. He had a few other living beings with him. One felt something like another dragon, two felt like elven women. I'm guessing they were Iduna and Nёya, the Caretakers of the Dragon Rider pact, who also must have been central in Tenga's plan. The other dragon-like creature might have been the spectral dragon they had tattooed on their skin, though I can't be sure of any of this. I don't know anything else about how he did what he did because I was too focused on communicating with Lena before Tenga left."

Will leaned forward, carefully listening to every word. "I couldn't help her, Will," Brom apologized. "Brin warned me not to fight back."

Will turned on Brin. "Why, Brin! He took Lena!"

"Angela appeared in my dreams right before I woke up," Brin heatedly defended. "I simply told Brom what she told me."

"Will," Brom quietly said, "it's not Brin's fault. Tenga would have instantly killed me had I tried. It's a blessing he wasn't aware of me since I had time to shield my mind from his awareness. Otherwise I would have been unconscious and helpless like the other elves. Tenga needs to continue thinking I don't exist. But that's what I told Lena. She needs to figure out how he did what he did and if there's a way to reverse it. I also asked her to learn about that Eldunarí because if he—it was male, I'm sure of it—continues to indifferently allow Tenga to draw off his power, I'll never be able to defeat Tenga. Ever. It was huge. I can't imagine how big the dragon that it came from must have been."

"Perhaps it was Bid'Daum," Blödhgarm suggested. "That seems to fit all that you learned, Brom. A white male Eldunarí, impossibly large, and somehow inexplicably tied to the Dragon Riders. He was, after all, the first bonded dragon of them all."

"Bid'Daum," Brom repeated, sensing the rightness of Blödhgarm's speculation. "That does seem likely. Do the elves have any knowledge of what became of my father's namesake and his white dragon?"

"Very little," Blödhgarm replied. "After inestimable years of living in Alagaёsia, they simply disappeared one day, never to be seen again. This too fits a pattern we are familiar with. Ancient Riders, their dragons, and even old wild dragons often retired to live in solitude, sometimes simply allowing themselves to slip away in the exhaustion of their endless lives. And a dragon that old—thousands and thousands of years—would have been immense indeed. As large as a mountain range, with almost no ability to fly or even walk, as huge as its body would have been. But how Tenga would have learned this and discovered their whereabouts is beyond me."

"My father told me that Tenga was a man always searching for answers," Brom related. "A notion Angela confirmed to my father later on. She said he would have a question, feverishly work to uncover the solution, and move on to the next one. Perhaps this question, of what happened to the first Dragon Rider and his dragon, has been occupying Tenga for some time now. And I can see how he would have wanted to do away with the Dragon Riders. No other magical force is strong enough to challenge a magician as old and skilled as Tenga, expect perhaps for the combined might of the elves. And the high queen was always sending parties out to search for him, which must have troubled him enough to finally want to do something about it."

Brom looked over in concern as Ajh hung his head in despair. "Sorry, Ajh. I'm not trying to cast blame, just understand this situation."

"I know, Brom," Ajh dismissed. "But we need to trust Lena with that. All the better we can do here is speculate. Our parents are far away, trapped on a remote island. But my sister was taken and we are ready to act, to do something. We have a ship, and we need to use it. I say we turn this discussion to those plans."

"Agreed," Will fiercely seconded.

"Yes," Brom said. "I agree too. So we need to leave. As soon as possible. And now we know why there are only going to be nine traveling with us, Keeta. Because the whole reason we will be traveling is to rescue Lena. But many of us have younger siblings who might not be capable of caring for the youngest in our and our parents' absence. Var and Will, for example. Me and Zadí. Willow, Monrow, and Evan are only thirteen."

"We'll help," Brin's sixteen-year-old sister Ginnee unexpectedly said. "Me, Ben, Kent. We'll all help. And the elves will still be here, along with some of the other older Riders. We will look after Ollie, Meri, Tage, Ari—all of the two and three-year-olds. They'll miss you, but they'll be safe."

"Thank you, Gin," Brin gratefully said.

"Will you be careful?" Ginnee anxiously asked.

"Yes," Brin reassured. "We'll stick together, just like you will."

Ginnee nodded firmly.

"So what next?" Will demanded. "The ship is ready, right Keeta?"

"Yes, Will," Keeta confirmed. "The only things we need to gather are personal clothing and toiletries you are currently using, though I have supplies of all of that to last for about a year. I just decided to leave that up to each of you so I wouldn't have to come rifling through your personal things, nabbing clothes you probably use all the time. Ajh might need our help to collect some last minute food stuff, things that wouldn't have kept on the ship. But the rest is there. All ready."

"I love you, Keeta," Will sincerely said, grabbing her and lifting her into a tight embrace. "You're amazing."

Keeta grinned. "Glad I took care of my job when I had time. Otherwise you might have just said, 'I hate you, Keeta,' and pounded me into the floor."

Will grinned along with her. "Not a chance, honey. We would have just gotten to work and done it as quickly as possible. But now we can leave right away." He set Keeta down and looked at Ajh. "What do we still need, Ajh?"

"Not much," Ajh answered. "I hoped we could take some of the chickens. I feel really stupid admitting it, but I always thought I would be able to use magic like I could before all of this happened. I'll have to figure out how to manage some of the things I had planned without."

"I'll help, Ajh," Hanna quietly offered.

Ajh looked at her and smiled. "Thank you, sugar," he replied in the same soft way.

"What else do we need to do?" Brom wondered. "Help me remember everything."

"We should probably scry Gerik," Keeta suggested. "Make sure Arûna isn't wreaking havoc in Tronjheim and that he's all right. I'm not sure how he'll get her to leave if she's trapped under the mountain. He won't be able to communicate with her at all like you were Brom."

"True," Brom said. "I can help you with that."

"I could too," Nefin offered. "And while I'm at it, I can contact my mother or father. Is there a way setup to reach Gerik?"

"Yes," Keeta confirmed. "Before we left Tronjheim after Arûna hatched, we enchanted a mirror in his family's home so he could stay in touch with them. The enchantment will still work, right? Even though I can't use magic anymore?"

"I think so," Brom said. "And that would be good. We should do that as soon as possible, and it's actually better if Nefin be the one. I think it's best if my presence in this group be as secretive as possible. I don't mean to sound self-important, but I think it's safe to say that I have been prepared all along to face Tenga. If he has no knowledge of my abilities or me at all, I have a better chance of taking him by surprise and actually defeating him. _If_ Lena can figure out that Eldunarí. We're still all in this together, even though she's not with us. I don't know if Tenga could have known this, but taking her was probably a big mistake. She has been working on this problem for years and has a more intimate knowledge of the mistreatment of Eldunarí than anyone because of her father. Will, if anyone is capable of doing what needs to be done in not only solving this problem, but defending herself against Tenga, it's Lena."

"I know," Will agreed. "We just need to get to her before he figures that out and _does_ hurt her."

"How will we know where to go?" Zadí asked. "He could have taken her anywhere."

Will held up his left hand. "Her ring," he said, pointing to his blue one. "You all know I proposed a few days ago, but that's not when I first gave Lena her ring. I gave it to her on our sixteenth birthday as a promise ring. They're enchanted. Part of that spell makes them draw toward one another. I can already feel which direction we'll need to go. I'm sure Lena will take off her ring and keep it hidden from Tenga as long as possible so the spell will draw me to her."

Zadí smiled. "How lovely."

"So when do we leave?" Will impatiently asked. "Packing these last things won't take as long as simply walking to where the ship is now anchored."

"Can we at least wait until the little ones awaken?" Zadí requested. "So we can say goodbye and maybe even let them speak with our parents."

"We will stay in close contact with your parents," Blödhgarm promised Zadí. "But we will let you scry us only when you feel it safe, so as not to draw undue notice to you."

"Would it be easier for them if we left before they woke up?" Var wondered.

"Easier or not, I still want to say goodbye," Zadí insisted. "This trip might be dangerous. There's a chance we might not all return."

Var nodded. "I see your point, sweetie," he said. "We can gather everything we need to still pack and be ready to walk to the ship right after the little ones wake up."

Everyone turned to look at Keeta, who immediately knew why. "Just bring clothes," she instructed. "For all seasons, especially winter, since we will apparently be traveling by sea during the coldest months. And any toiletry items you want to use up or have immediately on hand. I imagine it will take a few days for the rest of you to get familiar with the ship. There are packs stored there, but I can't see how having extras would hurt, in case we have some need of transporting goods. I have tried to ensure that we will be prepared for any eventuality."

Nefin smiled proudly. Then he said, "Shall we scry Gerik now?"

"Yes," Keeta said. They turned toward the Great Hall, intending to use the enchanted mirror inside.

Before they went, Blödhgarm said to the elves, "Let us quickly spread out and determine if Tenga did any damage beyond the obvious. Or if the dragons did before leaving. I will also check on the Eldunarí in the Cave. Report back here in an hour."

The others all dispersed to fulfill their various tasks. The former young Dragon Riders left to pack their clothes and personal items. Their next-down younger siblings headed to the kitchens to begin preparing breakfast. Nefin and Keeta quietly went to the scrying mirror, where Nefin performed the spell that would hopefully get them in contact with Gerik.

The first person to appear in front of the mirror in Gerik's home was his mother. "Oh, Keeta!" she cried. "Gerik has been beside himself! He went to bed just fine and woke up not an hour later, screaming about his dragon being killed. Arûna was off hunting by herself, and Gerik is torn between going in search of her now or waiting until morning, since he can no longer sense her. He doesn't want to get lost in the mountains at night."

"That's good!" Keeta exclaimed. "If he's still there, we need to talk to him right away."

"Let me get him," his mother replied before hurrying off to do just that.

Moments later, a stricken-looking Gerik appeared in front of the mirror. "Keeta! I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let her go off alone."

"No, Gerik," Keeta soothingly began. "Arûna is fine. I know it feels like she's gone, but it's really not that. And it's actually really good she went by herself and wasn't inside Farthen Dûr tonight. Let me explain what happened." So she did.

By the time she was finished, Gerik's face looked less troubled. "But I can't help you now, can I?" he miserably said. "I'm trapped here in the mountains. A journey by land would never get me anywhere near where you might end up on the ship within the next few months."

"No, but it's all right, Gerik," Keeta reassured. "You're still a Dragon Rider. We don't know what Tenga has up his sleeve, but you can still help where you are. If no news of this disturbance reaches the dwarves—in other words, if nothing seems to change—then all the better. But if any sort of unrest or panic begins to threaten, help people stay calm and peaceful. We will do all we can to figure out a way to solve this problem while we're on our way to rescue Lena."

Gerik nodded his understanding. "Thanks for thinking of me," he quietly said. "Thank you, Nefin."

"Glad I could help, Gerik," Nefin replied in the same tone. "Take care of yourself."

"I will," Gerik promised. "And you take care of yourselves. And her." He stared at Nefin intently, and Nefin only nodded. Neither one of the boys looked at Keeta to give away their meaning, though it seemed obvious enough anyway. Then Nefin ended his spell.

He looked down at Keeta. "We should probably go get our things and wait to scry our parents until we're all together and the elves are back, don't you think?"

"Yes," Keeta agreed. "But my clothes are packed. I just felt like this big thing would happen today."

"And it did," Nefin sadly said. "But I'm so grateful, Keeta, just like Will, that you did your part when you could. Not only does it mean that we'll be able to leave right away, but it also means you have probably saved us all. No one else could have been as thorough as I know you have been, and we will no doubt all be grateful in the coming months. Though it was hard when you were gone all that time, thank you, Keeta."

Keeta shrugged, trying to brush off Nefin's sincere praise but swelling with happiness just the same. "I hope you're right, Nefin."

"See you back here soon," he said, and they both turned to go their separate ways.

-:-:-:-

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks for all of your thoughts and feedback at the end of Part One. I'm glad it was an unexpected twist and that everyone is eager for more. If any of you reading this have a user account and have ever reviewed any part of my story (including _The Cycle Continues_ ), in almost all cases I have sent you a PM thanking you. Some users aren't aware that they have a "back office" area as part of their account. If you are logged into fanfiction, you should see your username up in the right-hand corner next to the logout link. If you click on your username, it will take you to your personal account area where you will find a Private Messaging subcategory, among many other things. Anyway, I have actually developed friendships with some of my regular readers via that feature and would certainly correspond with anyone who wanted to.


	56. Part II 2 Murtagh's Misery

**2\. Murtagh's Misery**

Murtagh stayed in the ocean for an indefinite time. Long enough for the tide to change and the water to inch higher up his body. But he wasn't even aware of that. Lena. His baby girl was gone, kidnapped by a dirty old man who had admitted a desire to use her for his own sexual gratification.

Murtagh clenched his hands into fists, fighting the urge to scream. He could feel that his bond to Thorn was cancelled. It was shocking, but it didn't weigh as heavily on his mind as the predicament with Lena. And yet, in a way, it did. For without Thorn, Murtagh was indeed stranded on this island without a way to get to his daughter, just as Tenga had tauntingly suggested.

Murtagh apathetically glanced over when he heard someone sit down in the water beside him and was somewhat surprised to see Varhog.

Varhog stared out across the black water and calmly said, "Murtagh, don't give into despair. We might not have been prepared for what happened tonight, but our children are. I noticed the golden ring on Lena's finger that Will made for her. He must have proposed, and he will stop at nothing to reach her. I guarantee it, for I wouldn't if someone had taken Willow and I taught Will everything he knows when it comes to protecting and loving one's wife."

Murtagh looked away again, staring unseeingly at the ocean. "But how will they know where to go?" he muttered dully. "Tenga could have taken her anywhere."

"Do you know what those rings do? Did Lena ever tell you?"

"No," Murtagh said, curiously looking at Varhog. "I didn't even know she had a ring. What _do_ they do?"

"Will enchanted them to draw toward each other," Varhog answered. "And they will also reveal whether the other wearer is experiencing emotional or physical distress by changing temperature. At least until Tenga figures this out— _if_ he does—Will will rely on that spell to guide him toward Lena. I'm sure they will leave on their ship as soon as they can in the morning. Everything—all of the dreams, all of the skills—makes sense now. For years our children have been prepared to make a long journey and face many great hardships without the advantage of being Dragon Riders. And Lena is intelligent and courageous. She will do all she can to defend herself against Tenga. Have faith in how you raised her, and his promise—for what little it's worth—that he wouldn't harm her. Lena surely will."

Murtagh's indifferent expression was replaced by one of gratitude. "Thank you, brother."

"Would you come back and join us?" Varhog requested. "Your wife would benefit from your presence. She is feeling very low indeed. And very responsible."

Murtagh's face tightened bitterly. "She is," he shortly said. "What _did_ he ever do to her? I always worried this would happen."

"Shame on you, Murtagh," Varhog reprimanded in a biting tone. "Don't act like a child. Of course you are upset Lena was taken, but how would you feel if Tenga had killed Nasuada as he originally intended? At least in this scenario your wife—the mother of your children—was spared, and your daughter also has a chance to escape her awful fate. Lena is her daughter too. And Nasuada feels terrible. If she senses that you blame her even slightly—when she already blames herself completely—she will be devastated. The last thing we need right now is discord within our tight family circle, or worse, animosity _between_ one of the married couples. We will need to work together to get off this island. If you can't let go of that destructive anger right now, you might as well swim out and let the Nïdhwalar eat you. Get your emotions under control and _then_ come back and join us. Elva's baby will be born soon." Varhog stood without another word and strode back up the beach.

Varhog's censure cut Murtagh to the core, for every word of it was true. Being reminded by one who had _laid down_ his life out of love for his companion and endured a full day without her awakened Murtagh to the foolishness—childishness, as Varhog aptly identified—of blaming Nasuada. Murtagh suddenly couldn't see through the film of tears that filled his eyes. He lowered his face, resting his forehead on his knees and weeping as the many powerful emotions of the past hours overwhelmed him.

Lena was gone, but Nasuada was alive. What if she had died? Been killed right in front of Murtagh's eyes? It would have been worse—far, far worse—than losing Thorn or Lena, for Nasuada was more important to Murtagh than either of them. All of his misguided anger—a result of his frustrating feeling of utter helplessness—melted away. It didn't take Murtagh long to repent of his hostility toward his wife, and then he was anxious to be by her side.

Murtagh stood and began walking back toward the group farther up the beach. He automatically said the words that would have once wrung all of the water from his clothes, feeling a startling jolt when nothing happened. _You can't use magic anymore,_ he thought in bewilderment. _This will take some getting used to._

When Murtagh arrived at the fire, most of the women, including Arya and Maehrí—who appeared to be recovered, though they looked more tired than usual—were huddled around Tomath and Elva. From what Murtagh could see, Elva was still unconscious, but her body was determinedly laboring to deliver her baby, with gentle coaxing in the form of singing from the elves. Most of the men weren't there.

But this understanding was all Murtagh gained in the brief glance he passed over the scene. For his gaze then fell on Nasuada, who was sitting apart from the rest with her knees pulled up to her chest, looking more vulnerable, anxious, and exhausted than Murtagh ever remembered seeing her. Her cheeks were tearstained, her eyes fixed warily on Murtagh's face, almost as if she expected him to yell at her.

A memory—so distant and repressed that Murtagh didn't even know he had it—swam to the forefront of his mind. His mother, Selena, with the same look on her face right before his father, Morzan, _had_ shouted at her. How Morzan had yelled. Screamed, ranted, and raged. No woman deserved to be treated that way, and Murtagh hated that his wife worried he might revert to such reprehensible behavior.

Murtagh stumbled to Nasuada's side, collapsing on his knees. He pulled her onto his lap and squeezed her tightly against him. "Sorry I'm all wet. Forgive me for leaving you here and staying away so long," Murtagh choked around the sobs that started up again. "I'm sorry, Nasuada. So sorry. And I love you so much. I'm so grateful you are safe, that Tenga didn't . . . carry out his original plan. Of all the people or creatures in this world, _you_ are the one I could least bear to lose." He began kissing her face, every surface of her beloved, beautiful face.

Nasuada allowed this for as long as Murtagh continued. When he finally stopped, she returned his love with one gentle kiss on his lips. Then she wrapped her arms around his back and pressed her face into his chest. She said nothing, but the unspoken message Murtagh received was exactly as Varhog had predicted. Murtagh's wife needed him, craved his comfort, and was inexpressibly grateful he had returned.

-:-:-:-


	57. Part II 3 Important Visitors

**3\. Important Visitors**

Eragon refused to believe that Saphira could have forgotten him. For thirty-two years she had been his closest friend and confidant. _Her entire life!_ Eragon stubbornly thought. _How can she have any_ other _memories? Any that don't involve me?_

After ascertaining that his wife would be all right, Eragon had quietly excused himself, for Arya's face had taken on a look of firm resolve that said, _Not now, darling. Tell me everything later. While there is breath in my body, I am going to do all I can to ensure that Elva and her baby survive._

And Eragon was grateful not to have to explain anything right then. He wanted to find Saphira and make everything better. But that was just the thing! He couldn't find her! Eragon couldn't sense Saphira's mind. He couldn't sense _anything_ with his mind! He and Arya had gotten to the point in their marriage where they were almost constantly in a state of mental communication, or at least mental touch. But now Eragon no longer heard the beautiful music of his wife's thoughts.

His mind felt totally empty. Desolate. Without Saphira or Arya's presence, Eragon's thoughts felt pale and incomplete.

 _Saphira!_ Eragon desperately called. _Hear me! Saphira, please!_ But they were only thoughts. The regular kind of thoughts that everyone always has, that don't reach anywhere beyond the confines of their own skull.

Eragon stopped briefly by the hut he and Arya had been staying in to retrieve Brisingr. Surely this would still work. "Brisingr," he expectantly muttered. But nothing happened. The weapon remained unchanged in his hand. No blue fire blazed to life along the blade of his sword. Eragon disbelievingly shook his head, hoping every moment to awaken from this awful nightmare.

And with nothing to guide him, he still set out in search of his dragon.

-:-:-

In the wee hours before dawn, Eragon finally found Saphira sleeping next to Fírnen. He stopped a good distance away, worried now about what might happen if Saphira really _didn't_ remember him.

 _Saphira,_ he tried again, hopelessly hoping it might somehow work now that he was closer. Nothing. She didn't even stir. He tried reaching out with his mind as he once had to observe everything around him. Also nothing. So then he whispered aloud, "Saphira?"

This elicited a faint stir from his glittering dragon, but Eragon determined that he was still too far away. So he carefully crept closer, keeping a large boulder between himself and Saphira. When he reached the huge rock, he walked around to its side and repeated, "Saphira, it's me. Eragon. Can you hear me?"

Saphira lifted her huge head, her eyelids clicking as she blinked sleepily. She slowly focused her gaze on Eragon, and he felt a constricting chill in his heart and lungs. Her eyes were blank, expressionless, _wild._

A condescending weight from Saphira's consciousness pressed upon Eragon's awareness, not in words, but in images. Images and emotions that conveyed this message, as best Eragon could figure: _Who are you? Where am I? How dare you address me, sniveling two-legs?_ The exact denigration Tenga had used, which Saphira communicated by showing Eragon an image of how she saw him right then, dozens of feet below her, cowering next to a rock.

But Eragon couldn't stand it. He couldn't bear the thought that Saphira really might not remember him. "Saphira," he said, clearly sensing that she wouldn't allow him to communicate with her mind, had he even been capable anymore. "It's Eragon. I have been your Rider for thirty-two years. Please, old friend. Tell me you remember." This he spoke in the ancient language, relying on the fact that all living creatures understood it to a certain extent, for Eragon had not the first clue how to effectively converse with a wild dragon, especially without the use of telepathic communication of any sort. The Riders had always depended on their dragons and the Eldunarí to bridge that gap for them, since the bonded dragons could obviously understand and reciprocate the series of images, visions, and metaphors used by the wild dragons.

A cold rage emanated from the dragon in front of Eragon, who drew herself up to her full and considerable height. Now her thoughts were colored with an icy blue fury that starkly denied all of his claims—that she knew him, that she would _ever_ allow someone to _ride_ her, and above all, that she was his _friend._

Eragon sensed her murderous intent a split-second before she executed it, thanks to how she sucked in a huge lungful of air. He dove behind the boulder as the wild sapphire dragon released a river of scorching blue fire. He huddled as close to the base of the rock as he could, hoping that Saphira wouldn't simply skirt it and finish him off. Not only did she most certainly _not_ remember him, but his former bonded dragon would now kill him as soon as look at him. Eragon recalled what he had learned and observed about dragons in the wild. The females were easily the fiercer of the two sexes.

Eragon's eyes filled with unexpected tears as the empty desolation washed over him again. How was this possible? Would he ever again get Saphira back? Would he even survive the next minute?

His lattermost question was answered when Fírnen awoke in response to the blazing inferno filling the clearing. They must have remembered one another, and some type of communication must have passed between the two dragons, for not long after, they took to the skies, leaving Eragon feeling more alone than he ever remembered feeling. He stayed by the rock and slipped into a shocked stupor, conscious of nothing for what seemed an endless duration.

-:-:-

When next he was aware, Eragon heard a voice, and he realized he had been silently praying something along these lines: _Father, please help me. I don't know what to do._

And the voice was certainly the voice of his father, just not the one he had been addressing. Eragon slowly looked up, squinting at the bright light in front of him. And there stood his father. Brom.

"Eragon," Brom said again.

Eragon sat up. "Father?" he whispered in awe, feeling a thrill at being able to address Brom for the first time as his father.

"Yes, Eragon," Brom confirmed. "I know you weren't praying to me, but we nonetheless thought it would be an interesting twist for me to appear and help you." Brom knelt in front of Eragon and rested one hand on his shoulder.

Eragon said nothing for a moment, mulling over Brom's words. He had said, " _We_ thought." What had he meant? Eragon couldn't resist asking, "Is mother with you?"

Brom's eyes twinkled as he nodded.

"May I see her?" Eragon hopefully requested. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, before he could even blink, Selena was visible beside Brom, smiling down at Eragon with surpassing love.

She knelt beside her husband and wrapped her arms around Eragon. "Oh, my son," she softly breathed. "How long I have wanted to do this. I am so sorry I couldn't before, that I could never be a part of your life."

Eragon was speechless. Tears coursed down his cheeks as he experienced his mother's love for the first time. "Mother," he finally whispered in a tone of deepest reverence and honor.

Selena simply stroked his back, held him close, silently crying along with Eragon. At length, she pulled back, taking one of his hands in both of hers. "Thank you for asking to see me, Eragon," she said in a soft, loving voice. A mother's voice. "I hoped you would. I have wanted to meet you for so long and tell you how proud I am of you. What a fine husband and father you are. I knew you were destined for great things when I gave you your name."

Eragon smiled faintly, unsure what to make of his jumbled emotions. He had never received praise from one he knew as a parent. It was an amazing feeling. "Thank you, mother," he humbly replied, reaching one hand up to brush the tears from her cheeks and feeling remarkably childlike as he did.

Selena smiled serenely and said words he had always desperately wanted to hear, though he didn't realize that until the moment he heard them. "I love you, Eragon." Part of Eragon's soul, which he never knew was empty before then, filled up and overflowed. His eyes did too, and fresh tears ran down his face.

Eragon bowed his head and wept. He hadn't anticipated an answer like this to his prayer, but how grateful he was, for it seemed just what he needed. He doubted that any other two beings would have been able to fill the desolation of his heart and mind right then like his father and mother, the latter of whom he had no conscious memory of. When he felt he could speak around the lump in his throat, he cleared it and managed, "Thank you, mother. I can't express what it means to me to get to meet you and hear you say that. I love you, too."

Selena moved one of her hands away from Eragon's, mirroring his earlier gesture by reaching up and wiping his cheeks. "And we are grateful we were allowed to come, son. How we have worried as this day approached. Yet we are not permitted to meddle in the choices of beings in this land, only provide guidance where it is desired and hope people will choose the right course, as Angela was able to with the children. Your son Brom's pure desire to understand all threats to the Dragon Riders was the opening Angela needed to appear to him and prepare him for what has now occurred. And the other children were also open to being visited and hearing her words of advice. Now you have a choice before you, Eragon. Your father has some counsel for you."

Eragon turned his gaze to his father Brom, who had silently observed the exchange between mother and son, apparently knowing what it would mean to Eragon and how it would help him.

"Yes, son," Brom began. "Thank you for asking for help. We were allowed to come to you because our Father thought we had the best hope of reaching you in your despair. Remember my experiences, Eragon. I lost my Saphira to death. She died in my arms, and I had no knowledge at the time that I might one day see her again, though we have since been joyfully reunited. And yet, eventually I was able to overcome the grief to the extent that I could continue performing good in the land.

"You must arrive at that place much sooner, son. You cannot afford the luxury of wallowing in self-pity. Even now your wife and friends are in danger. If they attempt, as you did, to find their dragons, they may not be as fortunate as you in escaping harm's way. And without the presence of the dragons on this island, the other predators will come out of hiding. You must meet with your friends. Though you are no longer Dragon Riders, you are still incredibly skilled and capable. The means have been prepared for you to leave this island and return to your families, who—especially the youngest children—will greatly benefit from your reassuring presence and protection, as your eldest children must now embark upon the journey they have always been prepared for."

Brom again reached out and gripped Eragon's shoulder. "Take comfort in your knowledge that your Saphira is not dead. There is a solution to this problem, and your eldest children have been specifically prepared to solve it. Until then, however, it is best for the dragons to simply leave."

Brom finished, staring at him intently from under his bushy eyebrows and above his hooked nose. Eragon remembered their time together with a pang but was inexpressibly glad his father was where he clearly wanted and deserved to be—with his wife and dragon.

"I understand, father," Eragon solemnly replied. "Thank you for reminding me of my worth and my duties, though I must accomplish them for a time without Saphira. I still have Arya, and we still have our friends. Our children do need us. We will not fail them. Thank you for all you did to help me prepare to face Galbatorix. I relied on your legacy to see me through the darkest times. I will do it again now."

Brom harrumphed gruffly as tears filled his eyes and spilled into his beard. "I'm so proud of you, Eragon," he said in a low voice. "You fulfilled and surpassed my expectations in a tremendous way. And you have been filling the land with good ever since. You are a true hero. Never forget it. One does not need a dragon to make a difference, and that has never been truer than now."

New tears filled Eragon's eyes at the words of praise from his father. He leaned forward into Brom's chest and embraced him. "Thank you, father. I'm honored to be your son and to follow in your footsteps."

"The time has come for our parting," Selena gently whispered. "But remember that we are always near, Eragon. Though we may not always appear as we have today, we will always be near. Rely on our faith—and your own—in moments of difficulty and doubt. We love you, son. We are proud of you."

Eragon leaned back and nodded. He arose as his parents did, bidding them farewell as the light around them dimmed and his awareness of them expired. "Thank you," he murmured again to the emptiness in front of him. "Thank you, Father."

And he returned to his wife and their friends, who were as close as any real family, full of resolve at what he must do.

-:-:-:-

* * *

 **A/N:** After reading Chapter 2 of Part One, where Evandar is born and Arya, Brom, and Zadí see Islanzadí and Evandar, one of my most faithful readers—and the one who inspired this story in the first place, known here as DragonRider2001—sent me a PM wondering if Eragon would ever see his father Brom in vision, similar to how many of my other characters see loved ones who have passed on, both in this story and _The Cycle Continues_. I told her that I had never thought about it, but that if I could find a good place for such an occurrence, I would certainly include it and give her full credit. I already knew the outcome of my story by then, at least what Tenga would do, and I realized that this moment in the story would be the perfect place for Brom to appear to Eragon as one who could offer comfort and counsel, since Brom really did lose his dragon. So thank you, sweet friend. I hope you enjoyed how I incorporated your idea. I thought it ended up working beautifully. :)

P.S. To the guest who reviewed as Alduin rider, no, I am not a professional writer. So far my efforts have been solely for my own amusement, and now, for those who are enjoying this story along with me. But I think I might like that, now that I know how fun writing is.


	58. Part II 4 Unbound Captive

**4\. Unbound Captive**

Lena was more accustomed to flying than many people, since her father, brother, and fiancé were all Dragon Riders—or had been—but the frequent experience of flying on dragons had done nothing to prepare her for what she was currently going through.

In those cases, at least there had always been something solid underneath her, blocking her view of the open expanse stretching below. But now she was speeding recklessly along, hundreds of feet above the ocean, with only Tenga's hand around her upper arm to provide any sense of stability. She was terrified.

On top of that, she had just been kidnapped out of the midst of her friends and personally witnessed the old man taunting her parents, confidently claiming he could and would have killed her mother had he not felt a whimsical change of heart, one that involved taking Lena instead. And he had admitted . . . admitted. . . .

 _No, Lena!_ she sharply reprimanded. _Not yet! Think about that later, but now you need to guard your thoughts from this horrible old man so your friends have a chance to rescue you from him. You have no idea when he will stop at his destination, when he will try to learn any useful information, and it could be any time now with how swiftly you're traveling._

Lena had been shocked to arrive at the tropical island her parents and the other adult married Dragon Riders were staying on within what seemed like minutes of leaving the Isle. She knew the same trip by dragon had taken the parents most of a full day, which meant she and Tenga had moved impossibly quickly. Tenga must be using some sort of spell to keep them from being harmed at such high speeds, but they weren't completely shielded, for the wind shrieked past her face, ripping painful tears from her blinded eyes. Lena shut them to help her focus and keep her mind from succumbing to the paralyzing physical and emotional terror she felt.

Lena replayed Brom's message to her right before Tenga had departed from the Isle. The most important things he had communicated were that they would come for her, that she needed to uncover Tenga's plot and learn anything she could about the Eldunarí he was abusing, and that she must hide her awareness from him. And there were several key pieces of knowledge that she would most particularly need to keep from Tenga.

First and foremost, he must never learn about Brom from her. Lena agreed with what Brom seemed to believe—that it was his responsibility to face and ultimately defeat the powerful and ancient magician—so she immediately filed Brom and all memory of him into her mind's secret stronghold.

During their many practice sessions in Ilirea, Brom had encouraged Lena to change her mental image from the cylindrical stone fortress she had first envisioned. Brom told her that it looked too much like a defensive structure, something that would make prying minds suspicious. So with his help, Lena had modified her stronghold, keeping the round shape but altering the external appearance until it resembled a quaint gazebo surrounded by a lovely garden. The gazebo had invisible walls, which lent to its innocent look, but the _real_ walls—the ones only Lena knew about—were just as thick and strong as any impregnable citadel. And though her deception contained what _appeared_ to be a doorway, it was simply part of the ruse. There was only one true entrance into the gazebo, an opening with the exact size, shape, and color of Lena's golden ring, hidden behind a rose bush near the false entry.

Lena could enter her gazebo by thinking her true name, her _true_ true name, for Lena had two, and learning them had been a small matter for her after beginning to practice with Brom. She had become intimately familiar with all parts of herself, since she had so carefully filtered through them to determine which aspects of her being needed to be secretive. Her first was the true name of who she really was, her full personality, some of which she would now need to hide within the invisible walls of her beautiful gazebo.

Her other true name represented the person she was going to pretend to be while Tenga's slave. It encompassed the most obvious parts of Lena—she was the daughter of Murtagh and Nasuada, a Dragon Rider and the high queen of Alagaёsia. She had six siblings. Most of the time she lived in Ilirea, but her family spent a great deal of time on the Isle of the Eldunarí. She loved reading and writing. Things of that nature.

And another critical part of that selective image was that she loved Will. But this part of her also had to be divided right now because her ring and Will's must never come to Tenga's awareness. Lena knew it was her beloved's only hope of finding her. As soon as possible, she must remove the ring from her finger and return it to its chain, then hide that somewhere on her person. The ring had to stay near her so Will would know it was still with her, for if she stowed it away from herself, the feel of the ring would change and Will would have no way of knowing if it was guiding him to Lena or some remote location. As long as it was with her, Lena's ring would change temperature based on her physical and emotional well-being.

Lena was sure Will's ring must be burning right then, for hers certainly was. They were both experiencing acute emotional distress. He must be beside himself with anxiety for her, but she knew he would immediately leave to come after her. She was determined to do her part to help him succeed. So she shuffled her memory of her ring into her gazebo through the tiny opening, promising that she would remember only long enough to remove it at the earliest opportunity.

Lena continued in this manner, hiding away her knowledge of her nine friends and their unique abilities, the twins' ship, the belt of Beloth the Wise, the steel-silk armor, and anything else that might give Tenga a clue as to how his seemingly flawless plan might be foiled.

She wasn't sure exactly what kind of a person she was dealing with, so she tried to assemble the very scanty information she had gathered in the time since Tenga had kidnapped her, as well as what little she knew from before, itemizing it into an organized list: he was impossibly old; he was impossibly powerful and was borrowing strength from an enormous Eldunarí; he himself had said he wasn't a murderer and that he wouldn't harm her if she behaved, but he was clearly capable of taking action when pushed far enough; he hated her mother; he was crazy—alternating between absolute lunacy and calculating clarity—but extremely intelligent; he was always searching for answers to questions, feeling he would discover an amazing invention that would usher in an age of light and make him famous; and—Lena finally let herself focus on her deepest fear related to her dilemma—he had admitted a desire to use her for sexual gratification.

Lena was grateful the rushing wind was already making her eyes water because she started to cry. How could she endure that? Here was an ancient hermit, with a gray beard so long it reached his knees, probably thousands of years old, who was contemplating such a crime as a means of vengeance against her mother. Lena's thoughts turned to Will—tall, strong, young, handsome. _He_ was the man she wanted to share herself with, not a disgusting, twisted old graybeard. She wouldn't, _couldn't_ , go through with what Tenga had alluded to. But how would she resist him? He had already forced her body to act against her will using her mind. He could surely do it again.

And if she tried to resist him, would she be able to maintain his favor—if she even had it to begin with—and thereby uncover what she needed to learn to reverse his plot and restore the Dragon Riders, if such a solution even existed? Lena's mind worked furiously to find an answer, for she knew she might not have much time and she needed to be ready in case Tenga made the attempt sooner rather than later. She remembered the jumpy titter Tenga had released upon first admitting such a desire and hoped he might actually be nervous to do as he had threatened. Perhaps that would give her more time.

As the minutes passed, Lena became grateful for the heat from her ring because she was otherwise freezing. She realized that they had never deviated from their original course over the ocean, and she wondered for the first time where Tenga was taking her. Perhaps she would finally learn what her mother had been desperate to know for so many decades—the location of Tenga's hideout.

And Lena soon learned just that. Not two minutes later an island came into view, encircled by a ring of craggy, snow-capped mountains, which were glistening like white flames in the light of the setting moon. Lena's heart filled with dread and astonishment. They were swiftly approaching what could be none other than Aras Thelduin, the fire mountains of Vroengard.

Within a couple more minutes, Tenga and Lena soared through a canyon between two of the jagged peaks, slowing to a less jarring speed and lightly landing in a clearing overgrown with various tangled bushes—roses, thistles, and raspberries—directly at the foot of an imposing granite monolith covered in lichen and creeping ivy. Behind them grew an ancient, gnarled apple orchard, beyond which stretched a vast and gloomy valley dotted with stone ruins. Just as she had recognized the island from her studies and the stories she had heard, Lena now identified her location as the Rock of Kuthian, and the earlier shock only intensified.

Without saying anything to Lena, Tenga released her, approached the spire, and muttered several phrases in the ancient language, which Lena easily understood. As a fissure split the solid stone face, quickly outlining an arching doorway, Lena was dumbfounded to realize that Tenga had just spoken his true name, thus revealing far more to her about his character. He disappeared into the gloomy tunnel beyond the entrance to the Vault of Souls, and Lena processed what she had just learned, marveling that Tenga had not recognized the folly of his actions.

She realized he was a coward, but a man of his word, which comforted her, since she knew he truly would not harm her—at least in the sense of inflicting physical pain—if she behaved. He was very arrogant, convinced of his superiority and power, demanding respect, and Lena supposed that anyone who had lived such a length of time—over a thousand years, as his true name revealed—would develop that trait.

Rather than dwelling any longer on the other aspects of Tenga's true name, Lena used the time available to her to quickly slip off her golden ring, returning it to its original chain—grateful Will had refastened it around her neck and that she hadn't subsequently removed it—and reattaching the chain under her clothing around her waist, where she tucked it into her undergarments so it wouldn't slide down any farther.

Satisfied the ring wasn't obvious from an outward perspective, Lena then determined how she would act in Tenga's presence. She must be honest whenever possible so he would learn to trust her, and her thoughts—in case he decided to ascertain her truthfulness with his mind—must reflect that honesty. She would be deferential without groveling, obedient without being servile. She knew Tenga must already assume she was clever, so she wouldn't feign ignorance, but nor would she ever act haughty, for Tenga was certainly far from stupid, though speaking his true name in front of her had been very foolhardy indeed. Perhaps he hadn't considered it a risk since she couldn't use magic to abuse that knowledge and force him into her service, as Galbatorix had done with her father.

Lena needed to be polite without seeming insincere, curious without seeming desperate. And above all, she needed to ensure that Tenga felt this was the true Lena, not an actress performing a part. Her second true name reflected these characteristics, so if Tenga ever attempted to discover that defining summary of Lena's personality, he would find only what Lena had already decided to show him. She was confident that she could keep the rest safe behind the walls of her mental gazebo, for by the end of their practice sessions, Brom had tried every method he knew of to bypass her defenses, but since her stronghold was guarded by such a small opening—access to which was only possible with knowledge of Lena's hidden character—Brom had never breached her barricade.

Tenga emerged from the Vault of Souls not long after, and he marched over to Lena, once again seizing her by the arm and dragging her away. As they started through the foreboding apple orchard, Lena quietly said, "We're on Vroengard, aren't we?"

Tenga did not respond, so Lena mildly continued, "Was that the Rock of Kuthian?"

"That is none of your concern, young lady," Tenga snapped.

"Why did you go in?" Lena wondered, sure she already knew the reason.

"Enough questions," Tenga barked.

"Very well. I will willingly follow wherever you take me, if it's easier for you to walk without holding my arm."

Tenga twittered mirthlessly, releasing her arm. "Can't escape, now can you, pretty girl? You are an unbound captive. Vroengard is the perfect prison for one without a dragon or my magical abilities." Then his manner abruptly changed and Tenga cast a suspicious glare in her direction, nervously stroking his long beard with one hand. "Trying to create a favorable first impression, eh? Want old Tenga to trust you?"

"That seems a better way to start out than the alternative," Lena replied. "Do you even know my name?"

"You are Lena."

"Yes. May I ask another question, unrelated to the first?"

Tenga scowled, but nonetheless relented, "As you wish."

"Do you live here alone?"

Tenga released another humorless laugh. "No, dear girl. Many have joined my forces, driven here by your mother's misguided efforts. I daresay you will recognize some of them, for they once were loyal to the queen. Their loyalties have since shifted. To me. We are going to them now. Perhaps you will be interested in their . . . unique features."

Tenga's odd tone and strange pause left Lena uneasy, but she made no comment, instead trying to prepare herself for an unsettling and potentially frightening experience. "Does the poison in the air not affect you or them?"

"I have protected myself from the effects," Tenga responded. "And now you, of course. Those who have joined me and are strong enough magicians have done the same for themselves. As for the others . . . well, you shall see."


	59. Part II 5 Shade

**5\. Shade**

Not long after, Lena _did_ see. They arrived at the ruins of one of the ancient Riders' enormous stone halls, which was intact enough as to be habitable. There a group of approximately one hundred people awaited Tenga, both male and female, young and old.

"Hello, dear friends," Tenga airily greeted, though Lena didn't miss the underlying coldness and disdain. Tenga clearly felt no regard for these followers of his, thinking himself far better than they. That her guess was true became abundantly obvious as Lena was able to observe the ragtag group of magicians. She immediately saw what Tenga had meant about the _others_.

The majority of the magicians must not have been skilled enough to protect themselves from the poison of Vroengard, for dozens of the people in the crowd exhibited ghastly mutations on their faces and bodies—a man with a third eye blinking out of the middle of his forehead, a young woman with a two stubby arms growing away from her original set out of her shoulders, another woman with seven fingers on each hand.

Lena did her best to keep horror from twisting her expression, rapidly storing the emotion into her internal gazebo so she would be able to maintain a look of mild concern and distaste on her face. But the horror was there, and Lena wondered how these misbegotten, unfortunate souls could even survive.

Tenga must have sensed her confusion, for he casually glanced over at her. "Interesting, isn't it?" he sneered with a morbidly amused laugh. "Perhaps you are wondering how they are still alive. Well, I have done them a favor, now haven't I? Though they couldn't protect themselves from the poison in the air, I at least protected them from feeling any pain or dying from the effects. It seemed a good way to solidify their loyalty."

"Why not simply protect them yourself?" Lena wondered, doing her best not to sound accusatory. "Surely you're powerful enough."

"But of course, dear girl! Why would I have, when it would have meant denying myself this unique pleasure?"

Lena stared at him a moment longer, masking her tremendous internal struggle behind an expression of calm disinterest. She was appalled by Tenga's perverse disregard for those who were slowly mutating before his eyes, when he easily could have spared them the disfigurement, but she knew appearing as disturbed as she felt would do her no service. So she finally said, "Why, indeed?" and turned her attention back to the crowd.

Tenga then resumed his interrupted speech, proclaiming, "I have returned after successfully implementing my plot—" He paused, smiling condescendingly as a ragged cheer broke out, then continued, "—to eliminate the Dragon Riders. We need never fear their meddling ways or unnatural powers again!" The cheer was more enthusiastic the second time. "Yes, dear friends, under my direction, we will become the greatest power in the land!" Yet another wave of approval and applause met these words, and Tenga lifted his hands to quiet his exuberant band.

"To complete my revenge on the nosy high queen, I kidnapped her eldest daughter and brought her back with me." Tenga rested one hand on the small of Lena's back, and she suppressed the urge to shudder. "Lena is my special guest," Tenga went on. "She answers to no one but me, and I expect you all to remember that. The consequences of forgetting will be . . . unpleasant."

No happy cries sounded forth after Tenga's second speech, but he carried on, unperturbed. "Since Alagaёsia is now without a royal family—the queen and her husband are stranded on a distant island with no foreseeable means of leaving—I believe I ought to implement a new ruler in their stead. Wouldn't want chaos and terror to overrun the land, now would we?" He chuckled regretfully, shaking his head.

"I will obviously be the main power in the Alagaёsia—for the elves are never quick to leave their secluded haunts and have never answered to a human monarch anyway—but I need someone to oversee certain important efforts on the mainland and to maintain some degree of order in Ilirea, as I will be spending much of my time here on Vroengard with my new guest. This person will have great responsibility, and in order to be entrusted with such weighty duties, he or she must undergo a radical transformation, one that is irreversible but oh so empowering. Do I have any volunteers?"

Lena was astonished to recognize the black-haired, blue-eyed sorceress who hurriedly stepped forward as Trianna, one of her mother's most powerful magicians until she had disappeared several years prior. Trianna's striking appearance was not altered as some of the others, and Lena knew she would have been adept enough to protect herself from the unhealthy environment while living on Vroengard. The woman's eyes narrowed at Lena, flashing cruelly before turning to Tenga. The malicious glint only softened somewhat, but her face took on an exaggerated look of obeisance as she dropped into a low curtsy.

"I volunteer, master," Trianna deferentially replied. "If you deem me worthy of the task."

She kept her face down until Tenga answered, "Ah, Trianna. Of course. You would have been my top choice. I am pleased you volunteered. And your interest in sorcery only qualifies you further. Let us not delay. I can perform the incantation myself. Prepare yourself, my dear. You are about to become Alagaёsia's newest Shade."

As Trianna raised her face, a heretofore concealed but not entirely unexpected expression of power-hungry fervor filled her eyes, and Lena's heart constricted in her chest. _A Shade!_ she frantically thought, struggling to subdue her anxiety. _A Shade ruling in Ilirea!_ Tenga must have actually _wanted_ terror and chaos to overrun the land, and Trianna seemed the perfect person to abuse the power she was about to receive.

In her effort to keep herself from desperately clasping them, Lena's hands began trembling. Tenga stepped forward as Trianna knelt before him and, while throwing his arms out to either side, began muttering a strange invocation. Lena understood the words, as they were spoken in the ancient language, but there was nothing she could do to thwart the monstrosity about to occur.

Lena knew the story of the Shade Varaug's creation and how her aunt and uncle had ultimately defeated him, but in this instance no one made a move to oppose Tenga. His many other followers simply stood in dumb, reverential awe, apparently _anticipating_ Trianna's transformation.

Because of Tenga's vast age and experience, and thanks also to the fact that his efforts proceeded without interference, it wasn't long before several pulsating orbs hurtled into the cavernous room, casting an eerie, unnatural light throughout the dim interior. The spirits whirred in angry, helpless defiance as they converged upon Trianna, whose face was upturned in the same worshipful zeal, no fear in her eyes as she awaited her imminent conversion.

With a final furious shriek, the spirits swirled into Trianna, seamlessly melding with her body and irrevocably altering it in the same moment. Her coal black hair was replaced from root to tip with a deep red the hue of blood, her skin drained of all color, and her startling blue eyes, which had squeezed shut at the time of convergence, reopened ruby red.

Tenga reached down to catch her as she slumped toward the ground, supporting her through the violent transition from human woman to unearthly monster, and then it was complete. Trianna stood without assistance, raising her hands to feel herself and run her fingers through her blood-red hair, a harsh smile of twisted ecstasy marring her once lovely face.

"What is your name, Shade?" Tenga asked.

The Shade turned her ghastly eyes upon her creator and haughtily replied, "We are Trianna."

Lena wasn't surprised. Trianna had always been extremely strong-willed, only reluctantly complying with her mother's orders, anxious to escape what she must have perceived as insufferable servitude. No wonder she had eventually gravitated to Tenga and now maintained her identity though possessed by a handful of malevolent spirits.

"Very good, Trianna," Tenga approved. "Let us now depart for Ilirea, where I will explain in greater detail your important role in this new age of prosperity."

The Shade inclined her head, turning to stride toward the door. Before following, Tenga looked at Lena. "Prepare a hot breakfast for my return." Then he warned all of the others, "Stay away from Lena. She is not her mother."

Lena asked, "To ensure your meal is hot when you arrive, when might I expect you back? I know you are able to travel impressively fast." She hoped her expression revealed only innocent questioning, not the desperation she was feeling.

"Between one and two hours, no more," Tenga unsuspiciously answered. "If it has cooled prior to my arrival, I will simply reheat it. You will not be penalized."

Lena nodded, following a few paces behind him as Tenga made his way to where Trianna impatiently awaited. Then the two magicians left Vroengard at the same dizzying speed with which Lena had arrived.

And without a backward glance, Lena turned with tears welling up in her eyes and dashed back to the Rock of Kuthian.

-:-:-:-

* * *

 **A/N:** Where I live, it is now officially Friday, January 22, 2016, so I feel justified updating my story a little early. This day marks the one-year anniversary of when I began writing _The Cycle Continues_ , and I'm so glad I have another chapter written and ready to post for you. I wrote this on Monday, after many last-minute details rapidly filled my mind. Lots of suspenseful stuff happening for Lena right from the beginning of her captivity. I'm excited for where the story is going! ~Autumn :)


	60. Part II 6 Hanna

**6\. Hanna**

Hanna had returned to her family's tree house and packed her things before Nefin even showed up. She was ready to make her way back to the Great Hall by the time he ascended the stairs. She waited for him to pass before moving over to go down, but Nefin stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.

"How are you doing?" he asked.

Hanna looked up into her beloved older brother's face, and his sincere concern broke her wavering resolve to keep her emotions under control. She couldn't restrain the tears that brimmed in her eyes and trailed down her cheeks.

"Scared, Nefin," she confessed as he took her pack out of her hands and put his arms around her. "Worried about Lena. Anxious about this journey we have to make. Zadí's right that it could be really dangerous. I'm concerned about mother and father. Mother is only a few months from having the new baby. What if they can't get home before then? And what about the little ones? Meri already had a hard enough time with them leaving, but now _we_ have to as well."

"I know," Nefin agreed. "It's all really overwhelming, but don't let the weight of the world rest on your shoulders. Everyone is going to work together to get through this. We'll speak with mother and father before we leave. Nina will help Ginnee, Bentuk, and Kent look after the little ones. Everything will be fine, Hanna."

"But Nina's only fourteen," Hanna pointed out, referring to their sister right under her.

"At least she will be a familiar face for Meri and the other small ones. The elves won't let them come to any harm, and I'm sure they will scry mother and father just as often as the children want."

Hanna nodded bravely. "How are _you_ doing, Nefin? Losing your bond to Arget must have been really hard."

Nefin's face twisted in pain. "Yes," he quietly agreed. "I think everyone is trying to ignore that right now so we can focus on what needs to happen, but someone is sure to break down soon. It feels awful, Hanna. Like part of me is dead. My mind feels empty and incomplete. I feel more vulnerable too. I can tell I'm not as strong, physically or magically."

"Isn't it interesting that none of our gifts were dependent on being bonded to a dragon?" Hanna thoughtfully observed. "It's so obvious now that we were prepared all along for exactly this outcome. I can still perform healing because I'm an elf and could use magic anyway. And even though Brom was stronger magically with his bond to Talon, he always ignored it whenever he practiced. Maybe that's why Angela told him he was more prepared than any of his friends for what would happen. He was familiar with how it felt to distance himself from his bonded dragon."

She paused for a moment before reaching her hand up to Nefin's cheek. "I'm sorry, brother," she whispered, murmuring a few words of comfort in the ancient language and directing their power to his troubled heart and mind. "Let me know if I can help."

"Thank you, Hanna," he replied, leaning down to kiss her forehead. "You just did. I'm glad we'll at least get to be together on this trip, even though we have to leave the rest of the family behind."

Nefin then invited, "Stay with me while I grab my things? I'm a male so it won't take long, then we can walk back together." He smiled as Hanna nodded her agreement.

"How was Gerik?" Hanna asked, following Nefin to his bedroom.

Nefin briefly related what he and Keeta had learned when scrying the young dwarf Rider. "He was obviously having a really hard time too, but it was a lot more confusing for him. He's disappointed he can't help us," Nefin finished.

"I can see how that would be frustrating. And how about Keeta? Is she doing all right?"

Nefin grinned in the way Hanna knew he would, for he always did at every mention of Keeta. "She's as amazing as ever. Just as prepared for this as Brom, I would guess. She was really distraught over losing Lightning, but she hasn't complained."

"You're lucky she likes you," Hanna remarked.

"I _hope_ she still likes me," Nefin returned. "And if she does, you're right. I'm very lucky. Even though I know this trip might be fraught with danger, I'm actually excited to spend the next however many months on a ship with Keeta." Then, apparently unable to resist returning her somewhat teasing question, Nefin asked, "And how is Ajh? What's going on with you two anyway?"

Hanna smiled. Ajh and Nefin were best friends, and Nefin had begun teasing her about him almost as soon as it seemed like she was starting to fancy him. "Fine, I guess. I haven't really had a chance to talk to him. So much has happened so quickly. And I don't think anything is going on between us. Yet, at least. But I really like spending time with him. He always makes me laugh and is really sensitive about how shy I am. He never pushes too far." Then her curiosity got the better of her, and though she didn't want to seem overly eager, Hanna nonetheless added, "Why? Has he said anything to you?"

Nefin laughed as he walked to her side with his pack and put his arm around her shoulders, after taking her own bag, of course. "Hanna, he's smitten with you. He just jokes about it, like he does everything else, but I can tell. And why wouldn't he be? You're the most beautiful elf there is. And perfectly sweet and timid. All features that many males appreciate. I'm sure he too is looking forward to having more opportunity to spend time with you on the ship."

Hanna followed Nefin out of the tree house, and they continued talking as they made their way back toward the Great Hall, which was a fairly good distance on foot since the largest trees were farther away from the enormous buildings of the city. Before they had made it half a mile, Blödhgarm appeared by their side, abruptly stopping from the dead run he must have used to reach them.

"Hanna," Blödhgarm directly began. "I have some things to give you to aid in your healing arts. I have been working on them for some time, hoping I would become aware of the appropriate time to pass them on."

The dark-furred elf withdrew two glass bottles from a pouch fastened around his waist, extending them out to Hanna while explaining, "This larger one contains a brew of enchanted faelnirv, similar to what Oromis provided Eragon, if you are familiar with that incident. Its main purpose is to provide energy and strength in conditions of extreme duress or exhaustion. I have had some years to create it, and this is a fairly sizable supply, but as I expect you might also use it to help your friends should the need arise, I would advise that you still use it sparingly."

Hanna nodded her understanding, humbly accepting both bottles as Blödhgarm continued, "This smaller one is far more precious. I have spent many years, almost as many as you children have been having dreams, concocting a potion that should serve as an antidote to almost every known poison. The strength of the poison, along with how extensively it has affected the victim, will govern the proper dosage, but I trust you will be most adept at determining both with your skills."

"Thank you, master," Hanna breathed. "I will carefully safeguard them and use them wisely."

"I know, Hanna," Blödhgarm replied. "Now, let us make our way back to the others. The elves have learned some interesting and somewhat troubling information. We need to contact your parents as soon as possible."

-:-:-:-


	61. Part II 7 Ajh

**7\. Ajh**

Ajh's things were mostly already packed, since his family hadn't planned on staying much longer after the parents returned from their anniversary trip. They always stayed in his father's old quarters whenever they visited the Isle, but their main home was in Ilirea. Since it only took him a few minutes to throw his things back together, Ajh then made his way to the kitchens to see how he could help with breakfast.

The siblings right under the oldest children had gotten started on a few things, but Ajh felt like making something special and he was trying to keep his mind off of the terrible events of that night. Since he had spent so much time learning how to do it, preparing food was now Ajh's coping mechanism, as well a way to find comfort.

He began making pancakes, knowing they were a favorite of most of the little ones, who would no doubt have an even harder time with their oldest siblings leaving when their parents still weren't back. As if to confirm and worsen his nagging worry, his youngest brother Tage walked into the kitchen right then, dragging his favorite worn blanket behind him.

Tage had all but outgrown his attachment to the blanket until mother and father had gone, and then he had latched right back onto it, desperate for some reassurance when his mother was absent. After flipping the current batch of pancakes, Ajh went to his two-year-old brother and scooped him.

"Good morning, Tagey," he greeted with a cheerful smile. "How are you doing today?"

His little brother wrapped his arms around Ajh's neck, giving him a tight squeeze. "Miss mama," he answered. "Be home soon?"

Ajh's heart sank. Their parents had planned on coming home the following day, but now he had no idea when or even if they would be able to make it back, and he knew Tage wouldn't understand. "As soon as they can, Tage," he promised, kissing his brother's little cheek.

Tage's blue eyes swam as he bravely tried to suppress his tears. Tage looked much more like their father than Ajh did, reminding him of Lena. And Tage's next question once again only solidified his anxiety.

"Whewe Wena?"

Now Ajh was fighting back tears. "She . . . isn't here right now, honey." How could he explain this to a two-year-old! And should he even try? "She got lost, I guess you could say. Ajh is going to have to go with Uncle Will, Var, Brom, and all the other big kids to find her. We'll be sailing on Uncle Will's ship."

"Whewe Bewwy?" Tage asked of Ajh's dragon.

"Berry is gone too, baby," Ajh sadly said, feeling the pang of losing his dragon.

"Ajh go bye-bye?" Tage verified. "And Wena gone too?"

"Yes, honey," Ajh confirmed. "I'm sorry. But everyone else will still be here to hug you and play with you and keep you safe. Will you be all right?"

Tage's tears spilled down his cheeks. "Me miss mama," he repeated, and Ajh hugged him tighter, struggling to keep his emotions in check so as not to frighten his little brother.

"I know, baby," he soothed. "Me too."

Just then Will strode into the kitchen with Oliver in his arms. "Morning, Tagey," he greeted. "Me and Ollie are going to go potty. Do you need to come? Then we'll go gather all of the chicken's eggs and bring them back to Ajh. Want to help?"

"Uncwe Wiw!" Tage cried in delight, his cares forgotten. "Me hewp! Me hewp!"

Ajh transferred Tage to Will's free arm, giving him a grateful look as Will said, "Have a job for me to do when I get back or I'll go crazy."

Ajh nodded and returned to the pancakes, tossing the burned batch on the compost bin and trying to keep his hands from trembling as he poured new ones.

-:-:-

Once they had all eaten breakfast, the thirteen through sixteen-year-old siblings who would be staying behind took all of the children outside to play so the oldest youth, the elves, and the other former Dragon Riders could discuss the matter at hand before scrying the adults on the tropical island.

Blödhgarm wasted no time reporting on the elves' discoveries during their scouting efforts. "The Eldunarí in the Cave appear to be unaffected by the change," he began. "Since their Riders are already gone, Tenga must not have thought to include them. I did not stay long to explain, but they are most troubled by this turn of events and wish to help if they are able."

"But we can't take any with us," Will immediately said. "We all promised Lena we would leave them here where they're safest if we ever had to leave the Isle for any reason. She somehow seemed to know something of this nature would occur. She was always so worried about the abuse of the Eldunarí, thinking it the main reason behind all of the most recent and dangerous threats to Alagaёsia. And she was right. Tenga is now the greatest threat, and he became that way by abusing an Eldunarí."

The other youth nodded their agreement, though Blödhgarm looked uncertain. "Is that wise, Will?" he questioned. "You might not stand a chance of defeating Tenga without the Eldunarí's assistance."

"Wise or not, we made a promise," Will said. "There must be a way for us to succeed without borrowing from the Eldunarí. If we take any with us, we will only be endangering them and ourselves. Because if they fell into the wrong hands, our task would become that much harder."

As the other eight youth continued to nod and mutter their support of Will, Blödhgarm reluctantly relented, "Very well. If you think it best. I worry about you children, though you are now grown. But I know how prepared you all are. Let me move on to the next item of business. At some point while he was here or as he departed, Tenga set fire to the _Talíta_ , burning it to ash. His flames must have been enchanted to bypass the wards of the elves, but that effectively eliminates one possible method for rescuing your parents."

"Do you think we should sail there first and bring them back?" Brom asked.

"I do not know the best course of action," Blödhgarm answered. "Perhaps now is the moment we scry them to see how they fare and if they desire such assistance."

"The little ones will have a hard time without us and them," Ajh contributed, noticing that Hanna nodded.

"I agree," Blödhgarm said. "We will care for the children, but we are not their parents or family. I know it is difficult for babies that age to be away from their main caregivers. I will scry Eragon so we can include them in these plans."

Blödhgarm performed the spell, using the large mirror in the Great Hall to improve the visibility of the gathered group, and Eragon immediately appeared before his mirror.

"Blödhgarm," Eragon greeted. "I hoped to soon hear from you, but I can no longer scry and the elves are busy with Elva."

"How is she, father?" Zadí anxiously asked.

"Elva is unconscious," Eragon answered. "She sensed that we would lose our bonds with the dragons right before it happened, thinking it meant they would all die. But the combined shock and pain of feeling our imminent emotions was too much for her to bear and it immediately forced her into labor. Mother and Maehrí are assisting her body in delivering the baby. I would imagine the birth will happen any moment. All of the dragons who have awakened have flown away. This island is no longer a tropical paradise but a deadly trap. There are many predators who will now venture near without the threat of the dragons, and we have no way to leave. If you will wait a moment, I would like to ask Varhog, Murtagh, and any of the others who can be spared to be a part of this."

After only a second, Eragon reappeared, accompanied by Varhog and Murtagh crowding around one another. Then Eragon said, "You know something of our situation, and we have been worried about you there. Tell us what we need to know."

Blödhgarm and Brom took turns sharing the pertinent information. When finished, Brom asked, "Should we first come there and bring you back?"

Eragon glanced at his two companions. "Do you have any input?"

Murtagh said, "I might be the wrong one to ask, but my feeling is to have them start after Lena at once. If Tenga does what he implied he might, the sooner they can find her, the better."

"What did he imply he might do?" Will demanded.

Murtagh's face tightened in fear and anger as he explained Tenga's threat to the others, and Will's expression matched his by the end, though he only said, "I'm also not the best one to ask. You all know what I want to do, but if we need to get our parents first, so be it."

"What other options are there?" Brom wondered. "How will you leave that island?"

Varhog spoke up, "Willow felt impressed to bring the twins' most exhaustive manual on ship construction. We can build our own ship."

"That could take months!" Var exclaimed. "We worked on ours for years."

"Yes, son," Varhog agreed. "But you rarely had help and only did so when you had the time available. With all eight of us men working together, and the women will no doubt pitch in when able, I think we could go much faster. We can obtain the supplies we need here on this island and create the tools. Between all of the members of our party, we have the skills and knowledge to accomplish such a task."

"But what about the Nïdhwalar?" Blödhgarm asked. "We are aware of at least one, sometimes two, prowling the oceans wherever dragons are known to reside. Without your dragons, facing one would be daunting indeed. The twins' ship is protected by wards that should distract and discourage the beasts, but we elves all helped them cast those enchantments and I worry you might not be able to replicate our efforts with your diminished magical might."

"We will deal with that when, or if, we must," Varhog said. "You would be amazed what lengths a desperate man will go to protect his loved ones, Blödhgarm, and we are well aware that our little ones need us. Love is a more powerful motivator than fear or hunger, which is all the Nïdhwalar know."

Blödhgarm did not press the matter. "So the youth will not come after you but immediately begin their journey to find Lena? Is this the final decision?"

Everyone made various expressions of assent.

"When will you leave?" Eragon then asked.

"Right after this scrying session is over," Brom said. "The ship is ready and we have all of our things gathered to carry there. Will knows which direction we need to go, and we will discuss our approach to preparing for Lena's rescue as we travel."

Ajh said to Murtagh, "Father, please hurry. Tage isn't doing very well. He misses you and mother tremendously."

"We will come as soon as we can," Murtagh promised, just as Ajh had earlier.

With the main details discussed, the scrying session turned into parents and children bidding one another farewell. The youngest children returned to the Great Hall so they could also see and speak with their parents, and more than one shed tears as the little ones cried for their mamas and dadas.

Before anyone was ready for it, the time to walk to the ship had arrived. Everyone decided to come along so the little ones would be able to see them off and have something to do to pass time. Many in the large group carried chickens in small cages for the youth to take with them so they would have a supply of fresh eggs during their travels.

Once they reached the shore where the ship was anchored, everyone repeated their goodbyes and embraces, shedding more tears as the nine youth finally made their way up the gangplank. Many minutes passed as the youth readied the ship to sail, having all been through the motions more than once during their practice sessions with the twins.

With the sails properly trimmed and Var standing at the helm, some of the youth returned to the railing to wave to their farewell party. The elves in the crowd took up a song, their voices harmonizing together to bring in a favorable wind and send the vessel off with a blessing of safe travels.

So their journey began.


	62. Part II 8 Ajh's Meltdown

**8\. Ajh's Meltdown**

By midafternoon, the ship was well on its way. The nine youth had taken their belongings to the berth deck, which was right below the main deck and where they would all be sleeping. While the twins kept the ship sailing on course, Keeta gave them all a tour of the craft, showing them where everything was stowed. They all had been on the ship before, but never when it was fully fitted for a long voyage. There was subsequently less space than any of them remembered. The ship really wasn't any larger than it needed to be to shelter and store supplies for ten individuals. The twins had known—or guessed—while building it that they shouldn't make it any larger, since a bigger vessel would have only required more people to operate.

Most of them were amused by the sleeping arrangements. They had mutually agreed that one end of the berth cabin—the one closest to the ladder up to the main deck—would be the boys' end, since Will and Var would be taking turns at the wheel through the night, though they would probably often use the captain's quarters located right behind the helm. But all of the rest of the boys would most likely be more involved in the sailing of the craft. Ajh knew he was the exception to that general rule and that Brin would most likely take his place because of her height and strength.

But there was no divide in the sleeping quarters, which meant the hammocks on the girls' end were within plain sight of the boys' end and vice-versa. Keeta had already sternly warned the boys against any nonsense, also giving Brin and Zadí a pointed glare, all of which was part of a long speech about modesty and decency. Ajh figured she knew that Hanna would never consider pulling any pranks or sneaking over to the boys' end in the middle of the night.

Ajh smiled to himself as he worked in the galley, reminiscing over the past few hours. It was surreal that they were already on their way. So far everything had gone off without a hitch, but the underlying emotion on the ship wasn't elation, as one might have expected at the beginning of an exciting voyage, but worry. Ajh was still struggling to control his emotions, but he didn't know if it would be healthy to bottle them up forever.

He looked up when Hanna entered the galley, smiling at her. "What are you doing way down here, sugar?"

"Coming to see you," she replied. "And report on the chickens. Everything is ready to go. They are all happy in their coop, and I have the Erisdar set to stay on for the majority of the day so they will keep right on laying as if they were out in broad daylight. It should continue to work as winter approaches and daylight dwindles. We will be able to open that door to the balcony right behind that cabin to let in fresh air. I'll do my best to keep it clean so the smell won't bother anyone so close to the sleeping cabin."

"Thank you, sugar," Ajh said. "I'll definitely help with that. I appreciate you performing the magic since I can't anymore."

Hanna shrugged dismissively. "Why do you call me sugar, Ajh? I've never heard you use it with anyone else."

"Because you're sweeter than anyone else."

"I see," Hanna said, smiling in the timid way Ajh adored. "What are you working on? We brought plenty of leftovers from the Isle so we wouldn't have to worry too much about food these first couple of days."

"Making a cake," Ajh said. "I had to break in the galley somehow, and it is Brin's birthday, after all. Everyone seems to have forgotten in the craziness of the morning, but I thought it might cheer us up a little to have a celebration."

"I want to help," Hanna said, walking over to stand by his side. "What are all of these ingredients?"

"Cocoa powder, sugar, butter, shortening, vanilla," Ajh rattled off. "Surely you knew most of that."

"Most, but not all. Elves don't eat much sugar, especially not this refined, powdery variety. But I love it. It's delightful when you use it."

"Thank you, Hanna. Would you like to add the cocoa powder? That's what makes it taste chocolatey. But not by itself. Without sugar, it's really bitter."

Hanna took the measuring scoop from him and dipped it into the powder. After adding it to the bowl, she licked some off her finger where it had dusted, wrinkling her nose in an absolutely endearing way. "You're right. It's disgusting by itself. But do you know what it reminds me of?"

"The cocoa powder?" Ajh asked, and Hanna nodded. _Your eyes,_ he thought, though he didn't voice it aloud, remembering Keeta's warning. "What's that?" Ajh added for Hanna to hear.

"Your eyes," Hanna matter-of-factly said.

Ajh stared at her for a moment, struggling to restrain the laughter threatening to break forth and ultimately failing. He burst out laughing, harder than he had in a long while, feeling bad about Hanna's confused look but unable to control his reaction.

"Sorry," he gasped, gripping the edge of the counter in front of him.

"Did I say something wrong?" Hanna worried.

"No," Ajh panted, still laughing. Staring into her deep brown eyes only reminded him, and a fresh wave of merriment overwhelmed him. He clutched his abdomen with one hand, wiping his eyes with the back of the other, and abruptly he wasn't laughing, but crying. The cries turned to sobs that wracked his body in a manner equally as alarming as the laughter.

"Ajh!" Hanna anxiously cried. "What's wrong?"

But Ajh couldn't answer. The violence of the emotion, preceded by such an unexpected outburst, had completely robbed him of any discipline. He slumped to the ground, wrapping his arms around his legs and pressing his face against his knees. _Lena!_ he desperately thought. _Berry!_

All of the uncertainty and sorrow of that day came crashing down on Ajh, and he was now venting it in the most undesirable way right in front of Hanna.

She knelt by his side, gently circling her arms around him. "It's all right to cry, Ajh," Hanna soothed, and he heard in her voice that she had joined him, surely brought to tears by her compassionate concern for his suffering. He turned his face into her chest, allowing her to comfort him. She began singing in her breathtaking elven voice, and Ajh's tears soon slowed until he had regained a shaky semblance of self-restraint.

When Ajh finally pulled away, Hanna moved her hand to his cheek, brushing away his tears and singing more words of consolation, this time empowered by magic. He felt their succor as her spell eased his pain.

"Thank you, sugar," Ajh repeated his words of a few moments earlier, though they were more fervent than before. "I'm sorry to break down like that. I've been struggling all day to deal with my fear for Lena and the desolation of losing Berry. It finally caught up to me. I'm embarrassed you saw me like that but glad you were here. The pain isn't as crushing."

"I'm glad you would let me help, Ajh. Sometimes allowing ourselves to grieve is the hardest part of healing."

Ajh nodded, wiping his other cheek and sniffing theatrically, which brought a smile to Hanna's lovely face. "Do you want me to tell you why I started laughing?" he offered.

"If you want. But you don't have to."

"I could tell it hurt you, and I'm so sorry. When Keeta and I were first making plans for how to prepare the ship, you had gone away with your grandparents for a couple of days. I told Keeta that your eyes reminded me of certain kinds of cocoa beans, and she teased me for always comparing things to food. But then she warned me that I probably shouldn't ever compliment you by comparing your eyes to cocoa beans since it wasn't very romantic. Right before you told me the powder reminds you of my eyes, I thought exactly the same thing to myself."

Hanna stared at him suspiciously, clearly trying to determine if he was telling the truth. When he earnestly vowed, "Promise," she started giggling, and the musical sound somehow filled Ajh's heart with happiness.

Hanna rested her forehead against his cheek as her laughter subsided. "Thank you for always making me laugh, Ajh. That _is_ pretty funny. So we have eyes like cocoa beans. I guess that could be a good thing, as long as we always imagine them along with some sugar, like your delicious frosting."

Ajh smiled. "But your eyes are much prettier than cocoa beans. They sparkle in the most delightful way."

"What's this on your cheek?" Hanna asked, lifting her face.

Ajh reached up to rub it. "Stubble?" he questioningly answered. "I guess so. I usually don't grow much, but that's one way I take after my father. Even though I look more like them, men from the Wandering Tribes grow little body hair. Every few days or so I used to remove it with magic. It has been long enough since I have that it's noticeable now. Should I grow it out like a rebel?"

Hanna giggled again. "Up to you. If you didn't, you would have to learn how to shave. Unless you could find someone who knew how to use magic to help you." She innocently raised her eyebrows.

"I just might know someone like that," Ajh thoughtfully agreed, playing along with her. "But maybe I'll wait to see how she likes the scruffy-looking Ajh first."

"I like him," she hastily admitted, blushing at her boldness.

"And I like her," Ajh gently returned, brushing his fingers along her cheek. "Shall we finish the frosting?"

"Absolutely," Hanna said, rising with him and helping finish Brin's birthday cake.

-:-:-:-

* * *

 **A/N:** About a month and a half ago, the guest reviewer Alduin rider requested that I spend more time with Ajh and Hanna. I didn't want to force something into Part One that might feel unnatural, and there were some key events in these last few chapters that I wanted to include, so it just happened to work out perfectly to dedicate a little time to them. And I was so happy I could add a little comic relief right here at the end by hearkening back to Keeta and Ajh's first conversation about his and Hanna's budding relationship. But I've had a similar experience to what Ajh goes through. When I was reading _The Hunger Games,_ I was so emotionally upset by the stressful nature of the book, and there was a moment in the story that struck me as particularly funny. I started laughing hysterically only to end up crying uncontrollably. Apparently, I just needed an emotional outlet and the rest followed against my will.


	63. Part II 9 Fellow Captives

**9\. Fellow Captives**

By the time Lena reached the entrance to the Vault of Souls, her tears were blinding, but she nonetheless managed to gasp her true name. She impatiently waited for the arching doorway to appear, knowing her time was limited. Tenga must never discover that she was visiting his secret hideout, if that's what it truly was. Lena intended to learn the answer to the question he had evaded before.

Once the doors were visible, Lena pushed through, paying no mind as they boomed shut behind her. She sprinted down the stone passageway, lifting her skirt out of her way and arriving breathless in the stifling underground chamber some minutes later. She skidded to a stop, her eyes widening incredulously at the immense white Eldunarí nearly filling the cavern in front of her.

"I see what Brom meant," she murmured in awe. She jumped, her hand flying to her heart as a mewling cry near her feet startled her.

Lena looked down to discover an emaciated cat. Once she was paying attention, the cat began twining itself around her legs.

Lena crouched down. "What are you doing way down here?" she muttered, stroking the cat's head.

She was just as surprised as before when the cat replied in her mind, _Trying to stay alive, now that I have outlived my usefulness._

"Are you a werecat?" Lena exclaimed.

 _Yes. And you are Lena. I know because Tenga forced me to spy for him by tearing information from my mind as I learned it from the werecat in your mother's palace._

"But you seem smaller than other werecats I've seen."

 _I'm slowly starving to death_. _I have only survived by exploring the small crevices and tunnels that lead away from this chamber, occasionally stumbling upon an unsuspecting rodent. There is water enough down this far, and it is clean and untainted by the poison on the surface. When I still had enough strength, I could assume my human form and eat the meager plant life that grows slightly higher up, but everything very close to the surface is poisoned._

"What's your name?" Lena asked.

 _My cat name is Swiftpaw_.

"How long have you been down here?"

 _Many months_. _Tenga captured me during one of his secret visits to the mainland. His plans were all but finalized by then, and he simply wanted to know the best time to strike. He knew there was often a werecat present in the royal palace, so he took me and used me as a spy. He fed me until I was no longer needed, then seemed to forget about me. Though powerful, Tenga is a coward. Rather than finish me off, he simply left me to die. He apparently plans to do the same with his new prisoners._

"New prisoners?"

 _The two elves_ , Swiftpaw explained. _On the other side of this Eldunarí._

As Lena began walking around the mountainous white orb, she asked, "Swiftpaw, how do I know I can trust you?"

Lena sensed the cat's bitterness as she hissed, _Is my word enough? I do not know, Lena. You can surely feel how much I despise Tenga. He was cruel and vengeful, hating my race for unknown reasons. And, as I just said, he left me to die. I cannot leave on my own. I would need to know my true name to get the doorway to appear, but even if I did, I'm no longer strong enough—nor was I when I could assume my human form—to pull them open. If I_ could _open them, what good would it do me? We are on an island in the middle of the ocean, without any means of leaving._

"I'll choose to trust you," Lena said. "I'm sure I will need all the help I can get. Does Tenga come here often?"

 _He did when he was seeking information,_ Swiftpaw said. _But today was his first visit in weeks. As intelligent as he is, he certainly can be absentminded. He seemed not to notice, or at least not to care, that I was nowhere to be seen, dead or alive._

"Well, if he ever comes again, he must not learn from you that I have been down here," Lena insisted. "I must do all I can to appear trustworthy, though I will be working every moment to figure out how to thwart him."

The werecat conveyed her agreement as Lena stopped in front of Tenga's new prisoners. The elven women gazed at nothing with dazed, empty expressions.

Lena once again crouched down. "Hello," she whispered. "Who are you?"

The silver-haired elf blinked, slowly focusing her gaze. "I am Iduna," she replied in an ancient voice.

"And I am Nёya," the identical though black-haired woman echoed.

"The Caretakers?" Lena breathed in disbelief.

"That is correct," Iduna said.

"How did Tenga ever get to you!" Lena cried. "Were you not protected deep within Du Weldenvarden?"

"We were," Nёya confirmed. "Behind wards and spells innumerable. But the elves granted us our privacy upon our request and we had no living guards. We were escorted from our quiet home every century for the Blood-oath Celebration. Using Bid'Daum's Eldunarí, Tenga bypassed all of those wards, which must have taken a great deal of time, and eventually reached us. We had no reason to ever suspect such a turn of events and no warning of Tenga's efforts. The wards were cast millennia ago and drew their power from the earth so as not to exhaust us."

"Bid'Daum?" Lena repeated. "This is the Eldunarí of the very first bonded dragon?"

"Yes," Iduna verified. "We recognize him. We were there when the pact was instated, first receiving our sacred calling at that time. But he is withdrawn deep into his heart, entirely apathetic to the world around him."

"What did Tenga do to you?" Lena asked.

"Using Bid'Daum's power," Iduna explained, "which is still potent, though the dragon did nothing to actively aid him, Tenga forced us to perform the song and dance that once gave form to the spectral dragon tattooed on our skin. After it leaped away, Tenga magically severed it. We do not know how. Indeed, we believed such an outcome was impossible."

"But in doing so," Nёya continued, "Tenga nullified the physical representation of the Dragon Rider pact."

"Do you know any more about that?" Lena asked.

"Nothing," the women replied in unison, their ancient gray eyes swimming. "We have failed."

"No," Lena firmly said. "Not yet. Nothing is final yet. We'll figure out a way to fix this. If you die, could the pact ever be reinstated?"

"We do not know for certain," Iduna answered, "but most likely not."

"Then I'll help you stay alive," Lena promised. "I mean, I would have anyway, but it's more important than ever to prevent that from happening. I don't know how often I'll be able to sneak down here. Tenga may not leave on a regular basis, and he must not discover me coming here. Swiftpaw, can you help them at all?"

 _There is not enough food to sustain them,_ the werecat said. _If you can occasionally bring food, I might be able to fetch enough water. I know where the freshwater springs run. But I would need something to carry it in, something we could hang around my neck, perhaps._

"I'll bring something next time I come," Lena said. "But I will also bring food for you, hopefully enough that you will be strong enough to resume your human form."

 _That wouldn't help,_ the cat insisted. _The passages to reach the springs are too narrow for me to fit through in that form, though it is that of a human child._

"Very well," Lena said, feeling a growing anxiety as she thought about Tenga. She wasn't sure how much time had passed, but she knew she soon needed to return and prepare him breakfast. "What else should I bring, if I can? Iduna, Nёya, do you need clothing? It's dreadfully hot down here."

"If you cannot bring any without drawing undue notice, do not concern yourself, child," Iduna replied. "Food and water will keep us alive."

"My name is Lena," Lena told them, realizing she never had. "I need to go. I don't know if I can make it back today before Tenga returns. In this heat, I know you will soon need water. Can you still use magic? Is there anything on my person that would serve Swiftpaw's purpose?"

"Perhaps a shoe or stocking," Nёya said. "We can still use magic, and we can fortify the material to be waterproof."

"My sock would hold more," Lena said. "Can you clean it? I hate thinking about you drinking water from something that has had my foot in it."

Nёya smiled faintly. "We will clean it, Lena."

"Do you know your true names? Surely you do, right?'

The elven women nodded, so Lena continued, "If I left things near the Rock of Kuthian—the entrance to this vault—would you be able to retrieve them? Perhaps it would be less conspicuous that way, in case any of Tenga's followers notice me frequenting that area."

"That may work," Iduna said. "When we are on this side of the stone door, we will use our minds to search outside. If no one is present, we will open and check. In this way, we may also be able to obtain food for ourselves at night."

"My understanding is that there is very little to eat that hasn't been tainted by the poison of Vroengard," Lena worried.

"Is that where we are?" Nёya mused. "Well, we can determine the safety of any food or drink with a simple spell."

"That's reassuring," Lena confessed, sitting down to quickly unlace her dress boots. "When I can, I will leave food wrapped in a plain bundle. Maybe I'll try to disguise it as a rock, but I'll leave a single white rose petal on top as a clue."

She removed her stockings and set them in front of the twin sisters, explaining, "I'll leave both. That way it won't seem as strange if Tenga happens to notice. I can just say I usually don't wear any. I need to go, but I will be back as soon as I can. Sorry I can't be more help!"

"You have helped, Lena," Iduna comforted. "And already saved our lives by enabling the cat to bring us water. We will learn what we can, if anything, from Bid'Daum. Be careful with Tenga. He is powerful."

Lena nodded and, having replaced her boots, stood to go. "Until next time," she called before running back up toward the surface.


	64. Part II 10 On Vroengard

**10\. On Vroengard**

Lena reemerged from the Vault of Souls breathless and sweating, grateful for the cooler air above, though it was now feeling warmer outside. She didn't rest long before running back to the hall where Tenga had first taken her.

Stopping the first resident magician she happened across, a young man with swollen boils all over his skin, Lena politely asked, "Would you be willing to show me to the kitchen, please?"

The young man eyed her cautiously, turning without a word and walking away. Lena could only hope he was doing as she had requested, so she followed after him and was relieved when he passed through a door into a horrendously filthy room that might have once been a splendid kitchen.

Lena suppressed her shudder of disgust and thanked the young man, who didn't acknowledge her as he left.

No one else was in the kitchen, and Lena wondered if Tenga's spell to keep his deluded followers from feeling pain also somehow extended to fulfilling their need for nourishment. Or maybe they used a different kitchen and the man had brought Lena here as cruel joke. Whatever the reason for the unexpected lack of activity so near breakfast time, Lena immediately got to work preparing something for Tenga to eat, determined not to fail in the first task he had assigned.

After scraping together the dust and animal droppings inside of one of the small ovens, Lena used two pieces of loose stone from the floor to strike a spark into the waste as if it was kindling. It caught fire right away, and Lena added dry wood from a dwindling pile near the door. She was amazed to find such supplies here, but grateful nonetheless. Lena was sure the magicians simply used magic to speed their culinary efforts, as Ajh always had.

A pang filled her breast as Lena thought of her brother. He would have cleaned this place right up, transforming it into a work area to rival the royal kitchens in Ilirea. Lena felt another unexpected surge of gratitude that she had spent enough time with Ajh during his lessons to have a clue about what she was doing. Not many crown princesses would have known how to prepare even the simplest meal in a kitchen.

Lena searched the cupboards, finding some flour—which was miraculously uninhabited by any living critters—salt, sugar, leavening, and lard. Hoping Tenga's protective spell would work if it was unfit for drinking, Lena used stale water from a pail to make a simple dough for biscuits, as well as a basic gravy to go over them. She discovered some strips of dry meat, guessing it was Snalglí, the giant snail residents of Vroengard, and fried them in melted lard over the oven's stovetop.

The food was nearly done when a voice from the doorway made Lena whirl around in surprise, clapping her hand over her mouth to stifle her scream.

There stood Tenga, nervously stroking his long beard.

"I'm sorry to act so surprised," Lena quickly apologized. "Do you want me to call you master?"

"Not necessary, dear child," Tenga assured with a jumpy titter. "Simply call me Tenga."

"As you wish, Tenga. Your breakfast is ready. I'm afraid it's not much, but I believe it is at least edible. Is there anything besides water to drink?"

"Who brought you here?" Tenga demanded.

"I do not know. A young man with boils."

"Almost all of them have boils," Tenga muttered to himself, staring at the ground, "among other things." He smiled in a perverse sort of way before returning his eyes to Lena. "Well, you can identify him for me and he will be punished accordingly."

"Are there other kitchens?" Lena asked.

"Of course," Tenga snapped. "I am sorry you had to be in here. It's deplorable."

"I had no way of knowing," Lena dismissed. "Will this food be acceptable, or shall I begin again in the other room?"

"It smells nice," Tenga observed. "I'm sure it will do. I rarely enjoy a hot meal. Most of what we eat here is dehydrated storage foods."

"If you can provide me with the proper ingredients, I would willingly prepare you hot meals every day," Lena offered. "My younger brother had an interest in cooking, and we often spent time learning together in the royal kitchens."

"We shall discuss it," Tenga said, his eyes gleaming eagerly. "Let us carry this meal to a cleaner room."

Lena helped him do just that, taking the seat he indicated at a table in his personal living quarters, which were a great deal cleaner than the kitchen she had been in, though it was still obvious that they were inhabited by a centuries-old bachelor.

As Tenga delved into the food without further ado, Lena asked, "May I join you? Or will I eat somewhere else at a separate time?"

"Certainly, dear girl. Join me. This tastes delicious."

"Thank you," Lena said, serving herself a plate and eating with her captor.

When Tenga had eaten his fill, Lena casually asked, "How did things go in Ilirea?"

Tenga smirked. "Wonderfully. Trianna will be a most adept leader, just the kind of woman for the job."

"What does her job entail?" Lena inquired.

"Curious girl, aren't you?" Tenga remarked. "Her job entails many responsibilities, the details of which I will not be sharing with you."

Lena nodded. "Then what will be expected of me? Surely you will at least share that much?"

"Yes, no harm in that, now is there? You will be my personal servant, Lena. Preparing meals, doing housework, keeping me company. Things of that nature. I will not hurt you."

"I hope I can trust you," Lena said. "You told my father the same thing."

"Are you not afraid?" Tenga asked. "You have remained admirably levelheaded ever since we arrived."

"For the most part, I'm not afraid," Lena answered. "I heard your true name, and it confirms what you just promised."

"Clever girl," Tenga muttered, somewhat approvingly and somewhat apprehensively. "But you are partially afraid?"

"Yes," Lena honestly affirmed, not elaborating to avoid reminding Tenga of what she hoped he would forever forget.

"Of what?"

Lena looked away, fixing her eyes on a swirl in the stone wall across from her. "Of what you implied you might do to me."

"Ah," Tenga said with a nervous twitter. "Nothing to fear there."

"Perhaps not for you," Lena said.

"You wouldn't enjoy such a pleasure?"

"No."

"Do you love someone?"

"Yes. His name is Will."

"Were you married? You weren't earlier this summer during the Choosing Ceremony."

"How do you know that?" Lena questioned.

"Just answer me!" Tenga cried in exasperation, somewhat defensively muttering, "So many questions."

"No, we weren't married. But we had plans."

"And I took you away," Tenga regretfully tittered, though Lena was already learning that the regret was complete farce. "At least you're still a virgin. Aren't you?"

Lena fought to keep her hands from clenching and her eyes from watering, retreating deeper within her mental gazebo. "Yes," she whispered.

"Good. Well, Lena, you needn't worry just yet. I may not even do such a thing unless I feel a desire to, which I currently do not. I am very old, after all."

"Would that not affect you?" Lena asked. "Your ability . . ." She trailed off, unable—or unwilling—to articulate her question.

"Magic will help me overcome the frailties of the flesh," Tenga reassured, releasing another infuriating titter. Lena hated the sound, but she kept her face smooth.

Desperate to change the subject, Lena then said, "And it's also how you travel so quickly. That's very fascinating, but surely it tires you."

"I would tire swiftly indeed if I didn't have external power sources," Tenga verified. "But old magicians like myself learn early on to store up energy and borrow from it when needed. I have many valuable stones to sustain my strength when I perform such feats."

"I see," Lena said. "Like the stones in the Dragon Riders' weapons."

"Exactly, my dear. And I have recently acquired a more impressive power source than they could ever dream of."

"Is that so? How interesting. Did you use it on your most recent trip to Ilirea?"

"Enough questions," Tenga said, eyeing her warily. "I'm not sure how I feel about your inquisitiveness. In fact, I might just search your mind to discover your intentions."

Lena calmly kept her eyes on his, fully prepared for his effort as he began to do just as he had threatened. She didn't try to hide anything from Tenga, for everything requiring secrecy was already safe inside her gazebo.

Tenga's eyes bored into hers as he tried to crack her, but Lena wasn't resisting. She let him right into her mind, where he saw her sitting on an ornate stone bench in the garden surrounding her gazebo. After searching for a time and finding nothing incriminating, Tenga gave up.

"A lovely gazebo," he commented on the image he had seen in her mind.

"Yes," Lena agreed. "It's like a place I loved to visit in the royal gardens in Ilirea, so I created an image in my mind to provide a sense of familiarity and comfort. This has been a trying morning."

"Would you like to rest?" Tenga offered, clearly disconcerted by her lack of resistance and his lack of success finding anything useful.

"I certainly wouldn't object, but I understand if you have other jobs for me."

"You may rest," Tenga said. "I have some business to attend to. Your quarters are just down the hall from here."

He led Lena to the room and left her alone. Instead of agonizing more over her situation or all that she would be trying to accomplish during her captivity, Lena went straight to the dusty bed, lay down, and forced herself to think of nothing so she could fall asleep, knowing she would need her strength and presence of mind to maintain her sanity on Vroengard.

-:-:-:-


	65. Part II 11 Elva's Joy

**11\. Elva's Joy**

All was black, but that she was aware of the darkness proved that Elva wasn't unconscious. She could hear the elves, feel Tomath holding her.

Tomath. His pain was the worst. Her husband was so peaceful. Over the course of their twenty-year relationship, Elva could count on one hand how many times she had ever felt sorrow or pain from Tomath, which was probably the main reason she had been so drawn to him in the first place. Even during their decade-long struggle with infertility, Tomath had remained mostly positive and cheerful, always helping her through the devastation of each miscarriage, hopeful that they would eventually have a child.

But now his emotions were the most desolate and despairing that Elva could remember, not only from losing Snowfire, but also because of Elva's condition—he knew she was intimately experiencing the acute anguish each of the Riders felt.

And though her gift no longer compelled her to relieve Tomath's suffering, Elva nevertheless wanted to help him. She knew the best way to accomplish that was to turn off her perception of the pain and sorrow around her, so she began doing just that, knowing it would comfort Tomath and also allow her to be fully present for her baby's birth.

Her baby! Elva knew the time was close, for she was distantly aware of what was happening with her body. She had waited so long for this time and was determined not to miss her baby's arrival. She then quickly removed herself from the negative emotions surrounding her, opening her eyes with a gasp as _that_ sensitivity ceased and a new one commanded her attention. Just at that moment, a powerful contraction seized her womb, forcing Elva to bear down.

She squeezed her eyes shut and obeyed the urge, having no choice but to comply with the demand of her uterus. When the impulse to push subsided, Elva reopened her eyes, searching for Tomath's and immediately finding them right above her face. She was cradled in his arms, Arya and Maehrí kneeling on either side of her legs.

"Tomath," Elva breathed, staring into his beautiful hazel eyes, which were wild with worry. She raised a hand to caress his face. "I'm fine, darling. I was able to end my perception of the sorrow. Now we get to meet our baby!" She tried to smile reassuringly, but it scrunched into a grimace of concentration as another surge required that she push, which she once again did.

When Elva could speak again, she panted, "I want to be more upright. This isn't comfortable."

Arya asked, "Tomath, will you please help her? The baby has nearly crowned, and its birth truly will be easier for them both and more comfortable for Elva if she is more upright."

Tomath raised Elva to a squat, positioning himself behind her so she could lean against him. "Thank you, Tomath," Elva said. "Do not fear. I am now happy—thrilled, even—that this moment has finally arrived."

Tomath kissed the back of her head. "I'm relieved, love. It was terrifying when you passed out and your body immediately went into labor. I'm so grateful these two have been here to help. Aside from my worry, your labor has been remarkably peaceful, since you were unconscious for most of it."

Elva heard the smile in his voice and also smiled. This was why she loved her Tomath. Already he was able to move on and be optimistic again, even finding humor in the most trying situation of his life.

During the next push, Arya instructed, "Resist the urge to bear down as strongly next time by breathing in short, controlled pants. If the baby's head can be born slowly, it will naturally numb your body in front of it, allowing the birth path to open gradually and painlessly. This will also reduce the chance of any tearing as it passes."

Elva nodded her understanding as she recovered against Tomath's chest, taking in slow, deep breaths. Following Arya's directions, the baby's head was born with Elva's next push, and she was amazed to discover that it actually hadn't been painful at all.

Keeping her hands where they were—supporting Elva's body around the baby's head—Arya looked up at Tomath. "Would you like to be involved in receiving your baby as it is born?"

Elva once again heard the cheer in his voice as Tomath eagerly replied, "Yes! What must I do?"

"The baby has already turned itself sideways, which position allows its shoulders the easiest exit from Elva's body," Arya began. "As she begins to push again, simply reach around here so you can support its head with one hand. As the body follows, catch it in your other hand."

"Are my hands clean enough?" Tomath worried. "They've been in the sand."

"Maehrí," Arya requested, "will you please move that bucket and soap closer to Tomath so he can quickly wash his hands?"

Maehrí did as asked, and Tomath finished his task just as Elva once again felt the desire to push.

"Here he comes!" Tomath excitedly cried.

Elva smiled as she obeyed the requirement of her womb. Tomath dearly wished for a son, so he had often referred to their baby as a male. Elva hoped his wish would be granted. As the baby gently emerged into Tomath's waiting hands, they both gazed on their new son at the same moment, just as he let out an indignant squawk.

"It _is_ a son!" Tomath declared with a laugh, and Elva's own laugh was breathless, swiftly giving way to tears of uncontainable joy.

"Here, love," Tomath offered. "Hold our son and I'll help you settle down more comfortably."

"Are _my_ hands clean enough?" Elva asked, never taking her eyes off of her beautiful, perfect baby as she repeated Tomath's concern.

"If you feel more comfortable washing them, it wouldn't hurt," Arya replied. "But contact with your skin is very beneficial for the baby, exposing his body to the healthy bacteria that will begin to strengthen his immune system."

Elva washed her hands before accepting her infant from her husband, laying him on her chest as Tomath helped her sit down on the clean cloths the elves spread under her body.

"Hello, precious baby," Elva whispered to her new son, stroking his head and back. "I've waited so long for this moment. I'm overjoyed to meet you."

"Congratulation, you two," Arya said with a warm smile that almost disguised the sadness in her eyes. Elva guessed that Arya was struggling to deal with the loss of her dragon, just as Elva had felt Tomath doing before distancing herself from her gift. "Have you chosen a name?"

"I like Tomath," Elva said, "but Tomath thinks that it's confusing having a baby with the same name as the father, and he doesn't like the nickname 'Tommy' as an alternative to the full name."

"We discussed 'Mathias,'" Tomath said, "which has part of my name in it. What do you think, Elva, now that he's here? Does he look like a Mathias?"

"I've never known one," Elva answered. "But he is the most perfectly exquisite boy I have ever seen. I like Mathias very well, Tomath. You have your son. I'm so happy, darling. So full of perfect joy. Though you may not know, you encouraged me to make my way back to full consciousness so I could be aware of our baby's birth. I knew it would ease your suffering. So thank you."

Tomath kissed her cheek. "I'm glad I could do something to help."

"What color are his eyes?" Arya curiously asked.

"I'm not sure," Elva said. "I didn't really have a good look before laying him here."

"May I peek?" Arya requested.

"Of course," Elva invited.

Arya leaned in to gaze at the baby's tiny face, and Elva watched as he rooted on her skin, recognizing the smell of his milk nearby. His eyes were open and alert, and Arya stated, "Deep blue. Like most babies."

"You seemed particularly curious," Elva observed. "Is there a reason?"

Arya shrugged, explaining, "I have been honored to assist in or be present for dozens of babies' births since having Brom nearly twenty years ago, and with one exception, they have all had the same eye color, even if the permanent hue ended up being much different."

"Who was the exception?" Elva wondered.

"Zadí," Arya replied. "Her eyes were already green when she was born, and I'm sure it wasn't my imagination. Eragon confirmed it. Even though Brom's are now green, his also started out this dark blue color. I have always thought it strange and pondered possible explanations but never come up with anything satisfactory."

"How interesting," Elva mused.

Tomath was gently running his fingers over the baby's silky soft head. When the women paused their discussion, he looked back up at Arya and Maehrí, asking, "Where have the others gone?"

"I'm not sure," Arya responded. "I don't want to ruin this beautiful moment, but do you know what happened? The last thing I remember before passing out was Elva saying the dragons would die and you saying the baby was coming. Now I can't feel Fírnen, but surely he isn't dead." Her sentence ended in a whisper, and Elva saw tears brimming in Arya's eyes.

"No, my love," Eragon reassured, approaching Arya from behind. "He is not dead. Now that Elva's baby is born, perhaps we can all return and discuss this matter as a group. Some interesting things have happened while you have been attending to Elva and Tomath." Eragon squatted beside Arya, putting his arms around her and adding, "Congratulations, Elva. Tomath. He's a fine son."

"Thank you, Eragon," Elva accepted, returning her eyes to her baby. Maehrí spread a blanket over Elva's legs, which had begun trembling, though she wasn't cold. "Thank you, Maehrí," she echoed. "They were feeling very shaky."

"Which is very common right after giving birth," Maehrí comforted in a soft tone. "Are you hungry or thirsty?"

"Mostly just thirsty," Elva said, gratefully taking the water Maehrí offered and drinking it.

Willow then appeared, a bright smile on her face, which, like Arya's, didn't quite hide her grief. Elva also noticed that Willow had her Rider's sword belted to her waist, as did Varhog, who accompanied her.

"Oh!" Willow gushed, kneeling next to Tomath so she could peer at the baby. "He's so precious, Elva! Congratulations, Tomath! Though I've had nine, it's impossible to remember how small they start out once they get bigger. Ollie is so huge compared to him. What did you decide to name him?"

"Mathias," Tomath proudly informed, glancing up as more of the Riders came into view, all with their weapons at hand.

-:-:-:-


	66. Part II 12 Plans

**12\. Plans**

Once everyone in the group had reassembled and offered the new parents many words of praise, they fell silent, expectantly looking at Eragon.

"I'll quickly explain what happened right after Elva passed out for the sake of the three elves," Eragon began, doing just that. Then he continued, "Once Arya recovered and began helping Elva, I set off in search of Saphira, whom I found sleeping next to Fírnen. As Tenga predicted, she did not remember me and tried to kill me when I suggested we were friends and I was her Rider. As I know most of you can imagine, it was horrible. Her flames woke Fírnen, and they flew off together before I was hurt. What happened next was most interesting."

Eragon then recounted his experience of meeting his parents and the counsel his father Brom had given him. "Not long after I returned here, set on preparing a way to leave this island, Blödhgarm and the others on the Isle scryed. Varhog, would you share what transpired?"

Varhog nodded. "We decided that the youth needed to start after Lena right away, rather than coming here for us. Willow asked me to pack the twins' most comprehensive manual on ship construction before we left the Isle. I believe we have the expertise needed to build our own ship and sail back home to the Isle. Firesword, Murtagh, and I have discussed what we feel are our most important priorities.

"The first was getting the dragons to leave. We have been paying attention, and most of them have already flown away from this island. After hearing Eragon's account, we warned everyone else not to seek out their dragon, hoping they would simply wake up and leave when they didn't remember why they were here. Only Thorn and Snowfire remain, and we hope they will likewise depart when they awaken."

"If they don't, we're in trouble," Murtagh muttered.

"Perhaps one of the elves could mentally invite them to leave, as Brom did with the bonded dragons on the Isle," Eragon suggested, explaining what he meant for those who hadn't heard Brom's experience, which he had shared with Eragon during the scrying session. "But we will deal with that when we must. The other priorities Varhog mentioned are as follows: protect ourselves from the predators on this island, which now no longer have the presence of the dragons to fear; begin building this ship; and prepare supplies for the voyage back home, which we think won't take much longer than a week."

"Though Blödhgarm did mention an interesting possibility," Murtagh dryly contributed. Eragon shot him an annoyed glare, and Murtagh defensively raised his hands. "What, Eragon? Don't you think we need to be prepared for that too?"

"Yes, we do," Eragon agreed. "But we have enough to think about without dwelling on that."

"What?" Arya curiously asked. "Don't keep anything from us, darling."

Eragon sighed. "Murtagh, you seem set on being the devil's advocate. Would you be so kind?"

Murtagh scowled but nonetheless said, "Blödhgarm simply reminded us of the threat of the Nïdhwalar, at least one of which has taken up permanent residence in these waters as a result of the many islands with dragons in the nearby vicinity. What I believe the elf was implying is that we may find ourselves facing one if we attempt to set sail from this island."

"Then we'll fight it," Grintuk said, apparently unconcerned and also somewhat anticipating the thought. "That would be quite the battle, wouldn't it, Varhog?" Varhog nodded, smiling faintly.

Breetuk gave her mate the same irritated look that Eragon had given Murtagh before saying, "You rams are ridiculous. All of us fighting together would be hard-pressed to overcome a Nïdhwal, especially _that_ one. It's ancient and enormous."

"So will we just stay here?" Grintuk retorted. "Ginnee's amazing with the boys, but we need to get back to our families, especially now that the oldest children have gone."

"I know," Breetuk submitted. "But you and Varhog would have the best chance and I'm just worried."

Grintuk put his arm around her shoulders. "Don't be, Bree. As Firesword said, we needn't dwell on that just yet. So where do we start?" he asked, once again returning his attention to Eragon.

"I feel that we should stay closer together in the evenings now," Eragon replied. "Our huts are quite spread out, which was wonderful for the privacy it afforded, but now that we might face threats during the night, I think we should camp as a group and decide on a watch schedule. That way most of the group can rest while only a few take shifts throughout the night."

"Easy enough," Knilf agreed. "Hanin and I will begin at once on finding the ore needed to make the tools for building the ship. Bodin and Vinya can build a forge."

"We will also need to fell the trees and begin preparing the wood," Maehrí said. "I can help speed the process with magic. I have some awareness of what must happen from my childhood in Sílthrim."

"Good," Eragon approved. "This is perfect. Varhog was certain we would have the necessary skills to make this happen. Tenga came after midnight and it is now past dawn. None of us slept last night, and as far as I'm aware, no one has eaten breakfast. I propose that we get Tomath and Elva back to their dwelling for some much deserved rest. Perhaps Willow can accompany them. Maehrí, we won't have need of the assistance you just mentioned until we have some trees. I think Grintuk and Varhog are going to be our best bet for that job. But, since you are expecting and are undoubtedly weary, maybe you, Arya, and the other women can also get some rest after preparing a morning meal. Do any of you object?"

None of the women did, and they all arose to begin their assignment.

As Tomath stood with Elva and their new baby, who had begun to nurse, in his arms, Willow said to Arya, "Would you like to accompany them and attend to the placenta, or shall I?"

"You go ahead," Arya encouraged. "I was so involved in the birth, and I know how close you are with Tomath. Maehrí and I will clean up then help Nasuada and Greta with breakfast."

"Everyone retrieve oatmeal, fruit, and toppings from your huts and bring them to ours," Greta directed with business-like efficiency. "It is the most centrally located and nearest the beach, where most of these men are bound to be working much of the day. We will ensure they never go hungry." The women indicated their understanding and set off to fulfill their various tasks.

"How shall we schedule our approach?" Eragon then asked of those still present. "If we sleep now, maybe we could work into the night hours, which would help us be more aware of potential nighttime threats. But I personally don't feel like I could sleep right now. I want to be actively working on this project. We just need to ensure that we get adequate rest."

"I wouldn't be able to rest either," Grintuk said. "I can stay awake for days with very little sleep. Let's get to work, and I'll take the first watch tonight while the rest of the men sleep."

"If Grintuk needs to be replaced," Varhog added, "I'll take over for him. A few hours of sleep would be adequate for me, at least for now. But I too wish to be productive. Our Riders' swords would surely be very effective in chopping down trees."

"You're always welcome to use our axes," Bodin offered.

"You may need them for your work," Varhog countered. "The swords are much larger and will work without getting dull."

"Before getting started in earnest," Hanin suggested, "maybe we could spend the first little while setting up this camp. Then our wives won't need to concern themselves and can instead focus on transferring whatever supplies they want from the huts to the tents. We might finish around the time breakfast is ready and so be able to begin with full stomachs. I don't know about you others, but I am more likely to work through my hunger than to interrupt my work with a meal." The other men nodded their agreement.

"Will we really be safer in tents out on the open beach than in huts with wooden walls and doors?" Murtagh questioned. "Several of our wives are expecting, and they are sure to be more comfortable in a bed than on a sleeping bag."

"That's a valid point," Hanin agreed. "Maehrí is the furthest along. What do the rest of you think?"

"My purpose was to provide safety in numbers," Eragon said, "but maybe Murtagh is right. We really don't know how much of a threat these wild animals will be. With our weapons and fighting abilities, I don't see why any one of the Riders wouldn't be able to fend one off."

"We should get Tomath's input," Varhog proposed. "He is more familiar with the size and numbers of these predatory animals. When there were over a dozen dragons on the island, I never set eyes on a single beast, but he may know if they are strong enough to push open a door. I will ask him when I go check on Willow. And we can stay with Tomath and Elva so they won't need to worry about that while they are caring for their new baby."

Eragon nodded. "Well, maybe we can leave things as they are and revisit this topic again if we learn that staying in the huts isn't safe," he decided. "They are farther from the beach, and being nestled in the trees only adds to the risk. At least we would have more warning if we were out in the open. I worry about someone getting injured. Most of us can't communicate with our minds anymore, which helped us overcome the inconvenience of distance, and at least one member of each couple could once heal with magic. Now that we can't, an attack from a wild animal is more concerning."

The men made various signs of acquiescence, then Eragon added, "How is everyone doing? Emotionally? It was terribly devastating to lose my bond with Saphira, and I'm sure you're all experiencing something similar."

None of his companions seemed interested in opening up about their loss, so Eragon finished, "My father assured me that there is a solution to this problem—meaning, what Tenga did—and that our oldest children have been prepared to uncover it. I found comfort in his words. Perhaps you will as well. I know we want to be actively working on the solution to our more immediate problem, so let's get started." And they arose to do just that.

-:-:-:-


	67. Part II 13 Life on the Ship

**13\. Life on the Ship**

On the second day of their voyage, after an interesting first night sleeping in hammocks aboard a constantly moving vessel, Brom called his companions together to discuss their approach for day to day living on the ship.

"How did you all sleep?" Brom began once they had finished breakfast and were gathered on the quarter deck. Var stood at the helm, and they had chosen this location so he would be able to participate without abandoning his post.

Will was moving about on the main deck, trimming sails, coiling ropes, and adjusting spars to take fullest advantage of each gust of wind. Var had quietly told Brom before meeting that Will wanted to stay active and that Var would fill him in on any necessary details.

In answer to Brom's questions, Brin groaned and cocked her head from side to side. "I think one of my horns got stuck in the hammock. My neck is really sore. Maybe I'll spread a blanket over it. But other than that, I slept fine. The constant rocking was soothing."

Zadí shook her head in disagreement, clutching her abdomen and looking rather pale. "No it wasn't. It's awful." She abruptly stopped speaking and staggered to the railing, where she threw up over the water.

While her back was turned, Var glanced over with a grin, quickly changing it to a look of sympathy when Zadí slowly faced them, wiping her mouth and sinking to sit in front of the rail, her legs hugged to her chest and forehead resting on her knees.

Hanna's sympathetic expression wasn't preceded by humor, and she immediately made her way over to Zadí, pulling a small bottle from her pouch. Hanna sat beside her friend, unstopping the vial and tilting it upside down with her finger over the opening. She applied some of the oil to the backs of Zadí's ears before murmuring, "Smell this Zadí. It might ease the nausea, calm your stomach."

Zadí did as instructed, and Hanna remained by her side.

Var then asked Brin, "How did you hang your hammock, Brin? From bow to stern?"

Brin stared at him blankly, so Var tried to clarify, "Front to back? Longitudinally?"

"Um, I don't think so," Brin said. "I hung mine at the very back of the cabin, from side to side."

"That's your problem," Var informed, "not that you seemed to mind. It was swaying with the pitch, especially that far aftward."

When Brin once again looked confused, Var explained, "Aft means toward the stern, which is behind me, or the rear part of the ship if you're standing in the middle facing forward. The bow is up there at the front. Anyway, if you hang your hammock the other direction, you will feel almost no swaying whatsoever."

Var then looked down at Zadí and said, "That might help you too, sweetie. Where we're standing up here is probably the worst place for you, along with near the bow. You will feel the pitch more strongly. Stay up here on the main deck but closer to the middle of the ship during the day where you can see the moving deck and horizon. You shouldn't feel much movement. If you can hang in there, the seasickness will subside in a few days. I've never had a problem with that, but I have just the opposite. When we get back on land, I'll stagger around like a drunk and be sick for a few hours."

Zadí glanced up with a wan smile. "I'll remember that."

Brom returned his attention to Brin. "And I might be able to modify your hammock so it's a smooth surface," he offered. "If you think that might help. A blanket would probably just bunch up."

Brin smiled mischievously. "If you want to help, I won't prevent you. I just don't want you trying while I'm asleep. You might see me drooling."

Brom stifled a snicker, shaking his head in amusement. "Everyone else do all right?"

His friends answered with nods or murmurs of assent, so Brom went on, "Anyone else having problems with seasickness?" He was now met with shakes of the head and mutters of denial.

Brom smiled again. "Not very talkative this morning, are we? How are you former Dragon Riders dealing with the loss of your bond?"

"I had a lovely meltdown in the kitchen yesterday," Ajh helpfully submitted. "Oh, sorry, Var. I meant galley. It was very becoming, wasn't it, Hanna?"

Hanna looked up, smiling. "I'm only glad I was there to help, if I did at all."

"You did, sugar," Ajh assured.

"Thanks again for the cake, Ajh," Brin said. "It was really thoughtful of you to do something for my birthday. We'll probably all remember it as a day of gloom and foreboding from now on."

"Yes, thank you," Brom agreed.

"You didn't happen to make any extra frosting and stash it away, did you?" Var hopefully ventured. "That was amazing, Ajh."

"Sorry, my friend," Ajh regretfully informed, casting Hanna a meaningful smile. "That I did not. But do you really think I would tell you about a secret stash if I had?"

"You would keep such knowledge from your captain?" Var exclaimed as if affronted. "I could order you to walk the plank, you know."

Ajh chuckled. "You would dispose of your chef so casually?"

"Nah," Var decided. "That would be really stupid. I know how to cook, but not like you, Ajh. Breakfast was also amazing. I never thought we'd eat like royalty on this voyage."

"I guess a royal royal chef really doubles the goodness," Ajh teasingly dismissed. "Sorry to get off topic, Brom."

"Not at all," Brom said. "I'm glad we can find humor in this situation. I think it's pretty unanimous that we're all here for each other, so if anyone else is having a hard time, please don't hesitate to share. But I did want to ask if everything seems to be going well in the galley."

"So far, so good," Ajh answered. "I've got two projects under my belt. Keeta and I made sure to pack every conceivable necessity. As long as I can keep getting cleanup help and assistance from my favorite elf, I'll be happy as a clam. A clam happily grubbing about in the mud," he clarified. "Not about to become the main ingredient in my famous clam chowder."

Perhaps sensing that his younger sister might feel awkward after Ajh's insinuation, Nefin jokingly joined the conversation with, "I didn't realize my company was so important to you, but I'll do my best to be present as often as possible between sailing shifts. And since when have you made famous clam chowder, _chef_?"

"You're _not_ my favorite," Ajh flatly said, rolling his eyes as if it should have been obvious. Then he laughed with his best friend. "Everything I make is famous, Nefin, even if I've only made it once. Lena would be able to tell you how good that clam chowder was."

Everyone uneasily looked toward Will, releasing their breath when he appeared to be far enough away not to have overheard. But they tensed again when Will called, "Don't worry about me, everyone. We'll need to talk about Lena during this trip. You don't need to try to limit such discussions to when I'm not around. She's always on my mind. It's not like hearing you say her name will remind me of something I'm not already thinking about. And I like that we're still trying to be lighthearted. You might not have as much of my help as you used to, but don't let my grim mood make you all depressed. I'll be as cheerful as I can."

"Sorry, Will," Ajh called. "How can you hear way over there?"

"Wind's blowing toward me," Will explained. "Like I said, don't worry about me. Carry on." He ducked under a sail, tying it off in a new position.

Brom got to the matter at hand. "So we need to discuss life on the ship. I think Keeta's ready to bring us up to speed."

Keeta shuffled her feet as all eyes turned to her. "Yep," she murmured, quickly gaining confidence as she pulled out a couple of sheets of parchment and glanced down at them.

"Please don't tell me you have a rigid schedule all mapped out for us," Brin good-naturedly grumbled.

"You bet I do," Keeta retorted. "And I expect you to keep your sleeping area tidy, missy." Brin raised her eyebrows in exaggerated shock. "I can call you that," Keeta continued. "I'm older than you."

"But not my mother," Brin rejoined. "I know _how_ to keep my things tidy, I just thought I might get a break for once. I don't _love_ organizing my things, like you. For example, why bother folding my pajamas and putting them away when I'll just be getting them out again that night? Or why should I straighten my bed—hammock—when I'll be messing it up again when I go to sleep?"

Keeta huffed impatiently, and Nefin mirrored Brom's posture by raising one hand to surreptitiously cover his smile. " _Because_ ," Keeta long-sufferingly expounded, "You are now sharing your living space with eight other people—"

"Var and Will are using the captain's cabin," Brin interrupted.

"Brin!" Keeta exclaimed. "Just keep your stuff neat, all right? Then none of us will trip over and impale ourselves on any of your numerous sharp implements while making our way to the privy at night."

Brin grinned, clearly only continuing to irritate her best friend. "Yes, mother," she dutifully replied in a tone of grudging submission.

Keeta rolled her eyes. "Our schedule," she went on in a resolute voice. "Var and I discussed this before the Games, while I was on the Isle for a week. We've all had some experience sailing the ship, but he and Will are still clearly the experts. The rest of us have only ever made short experimental trips, so we aren't really used to what living on the ship will be like. I've already given you a lecture about decent behavior in the sleeping area. Don't forget it!" She gave Nefin and Ajh a pointed glare.

"You two are sure to be the biggest troublemakers," Keeta said. Nefin innocently raised his eyebrows, and Ajh did the same, bringing one hand to his chest in a gesture that clearly communicated, "Who me?"

Keeta giggled. "Just behave, please. I know there are a lot of romantic overtures in our group, so let's be appropriate."

"Yes, ma'am," Nefin promised, using the same tone Brin had.

Keeta shook her head. "I don't even want to know what you have up your sleeve, Nefin-elda."

"I promise it's nothing inappropriate," Nefin solemnly said.

Keeta sighed, pressing her lips together to fight the smile. "First item of business is the sailing schedule. To keep the ship on course, someone needs to be at the helm most of the night. You know what? Var, I'm going to turn it over to you for this. You explained it to me, but I'm sure I'll forget or fudge something."

"Sure, sweetie," Var easily said. "Unless the weather is really calm, what Keeta just said is true. The wind can be pretty unpredictable, so even if it seems like the ship would stay on course if we just secured the wheel and left, it actually might not. Will and I have taken the ship out for longer trips than any of you. We're already used to sleeping a few hours and switching off. With more people now available to help, I don't see why most of us can't still get decent rest each night. If we run into a storm, or even just really strong winds, we would need more people on deck to sail the ship. In calm weather, one person would probably be able to momentarily leave the helm and make minor adjustments as needed. Everyone will get the hang of things really quickly in only a few more days. Nothing like living on a ship to make you an expert." He acted like he would stop, then quickly added, "Oh, and if Will and I use any terms you're unfamiliar with, just ask."

They had all already been involved in sailing since the previous day, so no one seemed to have any specific questions at that time.

"Right," Keeta said, once again consulting her list. "There is also the matter of our meal schedule, which may be next most important. Ajh, do you have any input? This is your area of expertise, though we have also discussed it extensively."

"Absolutely," Ajh said. "I can do all the prep and actual cooking. Anyone who wants to is welcome to help. I think it will be easiest if we all just eat our fill at each meal. There's not as much fresh food for snacking, like we were used to on the Isle or in Ilirea. Since we're starting each day early, we can have breakfast and lunch earlier than usual, then I'll make a third meal in the midafternoon. We'll still have dinner in the evening. Breakfast and that midafternoon meal will probably be the biggest. Hanna and I learned some things in Ellesméra that will help us get proper nutrition while subsisting on dry storage foods, so I'll incorporate something like that each day, most likely at breakfast. I've thought it would be fun to do a weekly treat, just as something to look forward to and keep up the morale. Cookies, cakes, pies, things like that. I'm open to requests. But I'd appreciate help cleaning up. It goes so much faster with help, though the galley wouldn't comfortably fit us all."

"I've also considered a cleanup shift, just like with the sailing," Keeta proposed. "Anyone mind having dish duty once a week? We can each just do one day, minus Will and Var, of course, who should spend as much time up here as possible."

"Not a problem with me," Brom said. "Can we help when it's not our day?"

Keeta shrugged. "As long as the person assigned to that day doesn't mind." She moved her finger down her paper. "Next is the privy," she went on. "There are nine of us and two washrooms."

"We boys have more flexibility there than you ladies," Var said with a grin. "Provided none of you are on deck, that is."

Zadí, who appeared to be feeling better after Hanna's ministrations, glanced at her beau with a patient smile, an expression they had all seen countless times during her years of reluctantly tolerating Var's hopeful advances. "Men," she muttered. "Maybe you can just call, 'Potty time!' like we did with the little ones and all of us ladies can politely make our way to another location."

"Works for me," Var replied, grinning more widely as he returned Zadí's loving gaze.

"Perhaps our bodies will just cooperate really nicely and all of us will naturally fall into a pattern that doesn't overlap anyone else's needs," Nefin helpfully suggested, an expression of mock innocence on his face as he regarded Keeta.

"Yes," Keeta agreed, smiling again. "As long as Ajh doesn't make chili too often or unintentionally poison us."

Nefin laughed. "I'll check everything with magic before we partake of it."

"How generous," Keeta dryly said. "I think we'll be able to make it work. Good thing only one in our party feels the need to engage in excessive preening. We'll make sure you have your opportunity each morning, Nefin-elda."

Nefin laughed more loudly. "I'm the only one who needs it. The rest of you are just naturally beautiful. Speaking of grooming, Ajh is looking a little scruffy. Need some help there, friend?"

"I never learned how to shave," Ajh defended. "I always used magic. But I've already received an offer of assistance, should I require it. Until then, I've decided to make the most of my full human blood and grow some facial hair. None of the rest of you are man enough."

Var snorted. "Want to say that again after an arm wrestle, chef?"

"Muscle isn't nearly the same measure of manliness as facial hair, captain," Ajh mildly returned, a smile quirking at the corners of his mouth. "I have to have one outwardly masculine feature. I'm the shortest, scrawniest male on the ship, and the full-time cook. Let me maintain some dignity."

"You're only two inches shorter than Brom or I," Nefin comforted. "And there's nothing wrong with knowing how to cook. But have you forgotten that Brom also grows facial hair? I must admit that I _am_ a little jealous. Even though they don't grow facial hair, at least Var and Will have some decent chest hair. I, on the other hand, haven't a single strand of hair anywhere other than on my head, eyebrows, and eyelashes."

"My facial hair is really a poor excuse," Brom said. "Which is why I'll never attempt to grow it out. Good thing I can still use magic."

Everyone laughed at the easygoing banter. Keeta then insisted, "Enough! We need to finish before lunchtime."

"As long as there's a chance I might hear that laugh again, I'm making the most of every opening," Nefin warned.

Keeta indulgently shook her head, keeping her eyes on her list. "So there's also the matter of laundry, bathing, etc. Should we have set times? Girls have their turn one day, boys another? Any ideas?"

"Do we have plenty of water for all of that?" Brin asked. "Hopefully. As a full-blooded Urgal, I'll probably be the smelliest." She shot Brom a teasing glance. "Especially if I have any fighting practice in store."

"You definitely do," Brom promised. "I can help with water needs, especially if it's just for washing. It's not that difficult to remove salt from the sea water. Ever since the sweet sixteen party a few years ago, I have made sure I can do that. Hanna and Nefin can help me, if they want to learn, but it doesn't take much energy."

"I say we do a girls and boys day," Zadí said. "Send the opposite gender up here to the main deck while the others wash up down there in the berth cabin. Or we could go one after the other in the washroom."

"Seriously," Brin insisted. "You elves or part elves might be able to get away with bathing a couple times a week, but I need to more often. You'll all agree after a couple of days. Can I get special permission to bathe each night? I can clean up using very little water and in under two minutes. It's a skill you learn as an Urgal. We all have the same problem, and most of us come from huge families."

"I'll help, Brin," Brom offered.

"I'm sure you would," Brin returned with a playful wink. "But I'll just need the water, thanks."

Brom flushed, insisting, "That's what I meant. I mean, that's not what I meant! I'll help with the water, not the actual bathing!"

"I know, Brom," Brin laughed. "But now you're thinking about it. And it's fun seeing you squirm." Everyone else laughed along with Brin.

Brom glowered. "Anyone have anything else to say right now? I wanted to suggest some training routines, but we can address that in a few days after we're more accustomed to these other rituals. Maybe we can get back to unpacking and Ajh can leave to get started on lunch. I think Brin needs some fighting practice."

No one indicated any desire to further contribute, and they all began to disperse.

* * *

 **A/N:** I want to apologize to any readers who might have personal experience with boats and/or sailing. I'm pretty much 100% clueless, drawing my knowledge from movies like _Pirates of the Caribbean_ and a few online resources I found. When I think about doing research to improve my familiarity, I just get overwhelmed and feel like not writing, so I figure I'd just fake it and hope it sounds believable enough to be interesting. That way I can keep writing. Since the ship is really not the main focus of the story, though it's going to be the setting for a lot of Part Two, I hope you'll bear with me. If you want to see the ship like I envision it, do a google images search of this phrase: The Pirate Ship Randwülf. The first image result is the picture I found that seemed most representative of what I had in mind (though I don't strictly adhere to all of the labels), so it's my current reference when I talk about locations on the ship. Hopefully that will be more helpful than a lot of confusing descriptions with sailing terminology that I really don't know!

P.S. One of my readers informed me that he is a maritime engineer and offered to help me with ship-related stuff. He pointed out a problem with the hammocks and swaying, so the way that now reads is slightly different from the original after I attempted to incorporate his explanation.


	68. Part II 14 Swordfight

**14\. Swordfight**

But Brin walked toward Brom, hand on her hilt. "Think you're going to humble me?" she challenged.

"I'm going to try," Brom countered.

"Might be disappointed," Brin nonchalantly said.

"Wouldn't be the first time."

"Where do you want to get hurt today?" Brin innocently inquired.

Brom finally smiled. "Knee cap still needs a good kicking in."

Brin winced. "Uh-uh, Brom. I'm not going there. Get me off my feet."

"I will," Brom vowed, drawing his sword.

"No cutting my sails or ropes," Var warned.

"Aye, aye, captain," Brin teased, likewise unsheathing her sword.

They fought for nearly half an hour in a dizzying swirl of swords, arms, and bodies. Brom was amazing, still clearly superior when it came to technique and footwork, but Brin was more innovative, using her body whenever and however she could. She had become familiar with Brom's usual methods of disarming and attempting to trap her, so she anticipated and evaded his first several efforts.

Brom knew he needed to be more creative if he was ever going to snare her. He could think of a few underhanded maneuvers that might surprise Brin—like pulling her hair—but he didn't want to resort to such measures. Instead, he thought to try something equally as unexpected and hopefully just as distracting.

After blocking a particularly aggressive slash, Brom caught Brin's free hand in his, bringing it to his lips and bestowing a gentle kiss, all the while staring into her eyes with all the intensity he could muster, knowing it was unsettling for her.

"Brom!" she exclaimed in exasperation, gasping for breath. "What are you doing?"

"Just thought you might like to dance," he offhandedly explained, turning Brin under his arm so her back was to his chest. Then, without warning, he swept her feet out from under her, forcing her to her knees as he pulled her down.

"Sneaky," Brin approved with an appreciative laugh.

Brom reveled in his moment of triumph a second too long, realizing as Brin's head slammed into his nose—her horn slashing his cheek—that he hadn't thought beyond the moment of taking her down to the next step. Of course she would keep fighting. He always told her not to go easy on him. And just because her legs were out of play—or had been, for about three seconds—didn't mean her torso, arms, or head were.

"Ah!" Brom exclaimed, dropping his sword to cover his nose as Brin sprang to her feet and whirled to face him. "I think you broke my nose!"

"And gave you a pretty nasty cut on your cheek," Brin agreed, kneeling beside him. "Don't fight with Urgals, Brom."

"You would think I'd learn my lesson," Brom muttered, his voice nasally. "But I have to prove myself somehow."

"Shall I fetch Hanna?"

"Yes," Brom sighed, swallowing his pride. "I want my nose to heal straight. Easier to ensure for someone who can see what they're doing."

"Sorry, Brom," Brin said. "You know I don't expect us to keep doing this."

"I do know that," Brom affirmed. "But I'd feel like a coward if I backed out now. I won't ever feel worthy of you until I can match you, Brin."

Brin shook her head, standing to go in search of Hanna.

"Nice," Will commented, looking up from his task a few yards away. "You almost had her that time. Use her horns against her, Brom. Both of your arms are far stronger than her neck. You just need to figure out how to turn her advantage into a disadvantage."

Brom grinned, sure it looked gruesome with all the blood pouring from his nose and the cut on his cheek. "Thanks, Will. I'll keep that in mind."

Hanna rushed into sight, her face full of concern as her eyes fell on Brom's battered face. "Brom!" she chided in a motherly tone. "Why do you continue to insist on these ridiculous matches? You're injuries are worse every time."

"At least it's not a kicked in knee," Brom pointed out.

Hanna clucked reproachfully. "Hush while I heal this." She quickly accomplished her work, wiping Brom's face clean when she was done and insisting, "No more today."

"Yes, ma'am," Brom agreed, smiling. "Thank you, Hanna."

"You're welcome, Brom," Hanna returned, rising to stand. "I would offer you food and drink, but I think Brin is bringing some."

Which she was. Just after Hanna disappeared through the hatch to the lower decks, Brin emerged, carrying refreshment for both of them. "Compliments of the chef," she announced, taking a seat beside Brom. "You look better."

Brom raised his eyebrows in an expression of exaggerated bravado, sniffing deeply. "As handsome as ever, then?"

Brin sniggered. "Please, Brom. Don't flatter yourself. You've never been handsome. Nefin needs to give you a few preening tips."

"What!" Brom scoffed. "I taught him all he knows!"

Brin giggled again. "Getting better at teasing," she approved. "You've always been handsome, Brom. Don't let it go to your head."

"Promise," Brom vowed. "Thanks for bringing this. That was an intense duel."

"Yep," Brin airily agreed. "When should we schedule our rematch?"

"Not today. Nurse's orders. I need some time to think up a strategy. If I had done that earlier, the outcome today might have been different. I got a little cocky, forgot how quickly you react."

"Your method was pretty smooth," Brin complimented. "Wouldn't it be interesting if we actually danced and did romantic things rather than fight all the time?"

"That _would_ be interesting," Brom allowed. "All of this fighting might not be setting the best precedent for our future, not that I'm suggesting there will be one or anything." He paused awkwardly, unsure how to continue.

Brin laughed. "Don't worry, Brom. I'm not feeling unduly pressured. You're the one who keeps insisting on these fights."

"But I was hoping I could get your help with something," Brom said, slightly changing the subject.

"What's that?" Brin asked.

"Overseeing some training routines," Brom answered. "I think we need to keep our fighting skills honed, prepare for potential threats. We don't have a whole lot of room on the ship, but we'll have to make do. I want to head up the magical efforts, which will really involve only me, Hanna, and Nefin, but I was hoping you would lead the fighting drills."

"Sure," Brin said. "Sounds fun. When will we start?"

"I guess as soon as everyone feels ready, when those other routines are running smoothly and we're more accustomed to life on the ship."

"Just let me know. I'll be somewhere nearby. Can't really get away from you now, stuck as we are on this ship."

"Too bad," Brom remarked in a playfully mournful tone. "More time to spend with Brin. I guess I'll learn to tolerate it."

Brin nudged his shoulder. "We'll see if we can actually get along when we're not fighting. Wait, that didn't sound quite right."

Brom smiled. "I know what you meant. And I'm looking forward to the getting along part."

Brin nodded, returning his smile and continuing their easy conversation as they finished their snack before returning to their duties on the ship.

-:-:-:-


	69. Part II 15 The Elves' Predicament

**15\. The Elves' Predicament**

A week passed before Lena found opportunity to return to the Rock of Kuthian. During that time Tenga kept close watch over her. She did a great deal of cleaning, cooking, and helping Tenga in his garden, which grew in a patch of earth that Tenga had somehow magically healed so it would grow fresh foods free from Vroengard's poison. Lena was grateful for these edible plants and used them to dress up the otherwise monotonous menu chiefly consisting of dry beans and grains.

On the morning that Tenga announced he would be making a short trip to Ilirea, Lena attempted to appear nonchalant. She didn't want Tenga to sense her eager anticipation of his absence as the needed prerequisite for her secret errand.

"What will you do while I am away?" Tenga suspiciously questioned.

"What would you have me do?" Lena responded. "I will gladly perform any chores you have in mind for me."

"Your chores are done, dear girl. Indeed, this place is cleaner than ever before. So I ask again. What will you do?"

"May I walk around and explore a bit?" Lena requested. "I learned of Vroengard during my studies and am curious to see more of it. Would that be dangerous?"

" _You_ would not be in danger, Lena," Tenga said. "I have protected you with various additional wards to keep certain native residents of Vroengard from bothering you."

"Like the snalglí?"

"Yes," Tenga confirmed. "Among others."

"What of the burrow grubs," Lena pointedly asked, a shiver running up her spine.

"You know of them?"

"Galbatorix used them as a particularly loathsome form of torture on my mother," Lena shared.

"Ah. I see. Well, yes, if it comforts you to know. Nor will the burrow grubs or shadow birds molest you. And all you intend to do is walk around and explore?"

"Perhaps I will have a picnic," Lena casually mentioned, hoping that might serve as a believable excuse if any of the other magicians observed her gathering and preparing food before her intended outing.

"That sounds enjoyable," Tenga commented. "I should like to join you for such an occasion another time. Maybe you will find a nice place to picnic and can show me at a later date."

"Certainly," Lena agreed.

His suspicions apparently put to rest, Tenga departed not long after.

Lena did her best to seem relaxed and unhurried as she then visited the pantries to pack some food for Swiftpaw, Iduna, and Nёya. Knowing they would not have a way to prepare most of the staples available, Lena chose as many of the fresh foods as she could. She had made bread just that morning, so she quickly prepared another batch of dough to rise and took all of the baked loaves. For the elven sisters, she also included a large quantity of plant foods from Tenga's garden. She took a fair amount of dried snalglí for the werecat. A round of hard cheese, two bags of nuts, two water skins, and a variety of dehydrated fruits completed her selection. Lena also thought to bring some silverware and dishes.

With her basket nearly overflowing, Lena then swiftly made her way to the Rock of Kuthian. She had only encountered a handful of Tenga's zealots while making her preparations. Few of them ever hovered around her after what had happened to the young man who led her to the abandoned kitchen.

Tenga had discovered his identity and executed a harsh punishment. Though Lena had tried to object, Tenga nevertheless insisted on removing his protective spell from the young man. Thereafter, the unfortunate wretch had felt the full agony of his condition. The poison in the air had rapidly taken its toll. Within a matter of days and after his incessant scratching of the swollen boils, the young man had suffered an excruciating death as his boils became infected and evolved into some type of flesh-eating disease.

Lena still shuddered just thinking about it. Thankfully, she hadn't witnessed his passing but only heard rumors, which were compelling enough to teach the others that Tenga was serious about them leaving her alone.

While she was grateful that she didn't have to fear anyone spying on her, Lena nonetheless felt a growing loneliness. She was accustomed to being around many people all the time. In Ilirea she was constantly surrounded by her family. On the Isle her friends only increased the numbers of her usual company.

Here on Vroengard Tenga was often the only person she interacted with in a given day. The other magicians she saw only in passing. Lena therefore found herself even more anxious for this excursion to the Vault of Souls. There she would find fellow prisoners like herself. And she would also have the opportunity to serve them, which always seemed to cheer her when she felt down.

-:-:-

Twenty minutes later, Lena stood in front of the Rock of Kuthian. She muttered her true name and waited for the entrance to appear. Tenga had informed her that he would likely be gone all the rest of that day and possibly overnight, depending on how long his business in Ilirea lasted, so Lena didn't feel as rushed as during her first visit.

Lena had decided not to press Tenga for further details about the important responsibilities he had entrusted Trianna with. Nor had she questioned him at all about his plot to overthrow the Dragon Riders. She hoped an opening would present itself. And she also relied on the possibility that Iduna and Nёya may have learned something useful from Bid'Daum.

As soon as she arrived in the stifling underground cavern, Lena called, "Swiftpaw? Are you here?"

The werecat appeared within a few seconds, looking thinner and mangier than before.

"Oh, Swiftpaw!" Lena exclaimed, crouching down in front of the poor creature. "Look at you! I'm so sorry I couldn't come back sooner. Are the elves where they were before?"

 _Yes, Lena_ , the werecat weakly replied. _But we have a problem. Come with me._

Lena followed the emaciated cat around the dimly pulsating Eldunarí and stopped in front of Iduna and Nёya. Only they didn't look at all like the elven twin sisters she had met the week before.

"Oh my goodness!" Lena cried in shock, kneeling down before them. "Whatever has happened to you!"

The only way she knew that Iduna answered was by her silver hair. Nothing else in her features was even remotely similar. The elf woman's face was covered in deep wrinkles. Her skin was saggy and thin. Her eyes were sunken and clouded. Her shoulders, once strong and square, were hunched and defeated.

"We grew old," Iduna sadly stated, her ancient voice now quavering and tired. "Very swiftly, especially when we attempted to use magic. We are thousands and thousands of years old, Lena. Probably among the oldest living elves. The magic that permeated our race at the instatement of the Dragon Rider pact sustained our youthfulness these last many millennia. But that magic is no longer at work." She paused, apparently exhausted by the effort required to say only that.

So Nёya, her once coal black hair now streaked with white, took over, "After a couple of days of waiting, we could bear the hunger no longer. At that point we had no clue of this consequence, for our only magical effort was to reinforce your stockings so they would hold water. Though even that must have begun to drain us without our awareness. We made our way to the entrance and cast our minds outside. Such a minor magical task, but each little bit added up."

Now Iduna gave her sister a break. "Once sure we were alone, we emerged from the Vault into the clearing beyond and quickly checked the raspberries and apples for their safety. Satisfied the fruit would not harm us, Nёya and I eagerly partook. For the following three days, we continued this pattern. And to those minor magical efforts we added regular attempts to communicate with Bid'Daum."

"Which have thus far been unsuccessful," Nёya bitterly revealed, casting a withering glare toward the enormous white orb. "He stubbornly refuses to even acknowledge us. But after several days of these innocent engagements, we began to notice the toll. It was so gradual and so unexpected that we didn't realize what was happening until only yesterday. As accustomed as we were to the idea that we would live forever, it never occurred to us that we might one day age."

"We have ceased all magical effort, Lena, for fear that we will send ourselves to our graves" Iduna said. "Indeed, even now, we may yet die of old age before we can succeed in reversing Tenga's curse. We do not know how long we can defy the inexorable hand of time now that magic is not sustaining our lives."

"Oh no!" Lena despaired. "Is there anything you can think of that might help? I'm not expecting help to arrive for many more months! But if you pass away before then, what will we do? The Dragon Rider pact may remain nullified forever, possibly plunging Alagaёsia into its darkest age yet!"

Nёya released a heavy sigh. "We do not know, Lena. There is a chance Bid'Daum could extend our lives if he would but emerge enough from his apathetic existence, but he resists any attempt to converse."

"Why!" Lena demanded. "Does he not understand the gravity of this situation?"

"He is aware of almost nothing outside of himself at the moment," Iduna said. "He _could_ be, but he has no interest in rejoining civilization. He most likely simply wishes to die, as his Rider almost certainly has."

"Can nothing reach him?" Lena inquired. " _Can_ he even be killed? I mean, he's so huge. What force is there that could shatter such an object?"

"As elves, we do not consider such measures," Iduna firmly declared. "Ending the life of a dragon without that dragon's express consent and desire would be an abomination for our race, at least since the end of Du Fyrn Skulblaka. Many elves would still balk to perform such a job even if the dragon wished it. And considering who Bid'Daum is—how significant he is—I can think of no elf who would agree to end his existence."

"Not even if he wanted it?" Lena wondered.

"Not even then," Iduna confirmed.

"But can you not simply draw off of his energy as Tenga did? You told me that his power is still potent even when he isn't actively aiding someone."

"Such an activity is also magical, Lena," Nёya reminded. "We fear that doing so would only worsen our predicament."

Lena was silent for a moment, thinking hard. "Well, no matter how hopeless this situation seems, we still can't give up. Everything depends on us figuring out how to reverse Tenga's plot. We must restore the Dragon Riders. But until we have more ideas, I will think of an excuse to visit here every day. Tenga is gone for today, possibly even tonight. I will return to the stronghold and bring you more food, enough to hopefully last a few days in case I can't come up with something convincing right away. At least then you won't have to use magic to obtain food."

"Now that we know the raspberries and apples outside are safe, we need no longer use magic for that," Iduna said.

"Yes," Lena agreed, "and I doubt anyone else really comes here at night. But only use that as a last resort if I can't make it here as often as I'm hoping. Oh, and here. How rude of me! All this time we have been talking and I didn't even think to offer you some of this food yet. How hungry you must be!"

The elves and werecat immediately accepted the basket and delved into its contents. As they ate, Lena happened to glance over at Bid'Daum's Eldunarí, feeling him reach out with the faintest tendril of curiosity before once again withdrawing. Lena raised her eyebrows in surprise, turning back to regard her three companions, but they seemed completely unaware that the dragon had momentarily roused from his long slumber.

-:-:-:-


	70. Part II 16 Zadí's Concern

**16\. Zadí's Concern**

Close to a week and a half had passed since the nine friends had taken to the seas. The pull from Will's ring urged them to travel northwest, but the land prevented them from following such a direct course. After reaching the mainland from the Isle, the twins had begun to sail due west in the ocean south of the expansive eastern wilderness beyond Alagaёsia. They knew this barren wasteland stretched on for thousands of miles before the Beor mountain range started, and they were all feeling the acute frustration of how slow it was to travel by sea when they were accustomed to the speed of dragons.

Zadí stood at the portside railing of the main deck, just across from the long boat. Her seasickness had not subsided as quickly as Var predicted, and she found that she still felt best when she remained on the main deck near the middle of the ship.

She'd had little appetite on the voyage thus far, so Zadí had finished lunch early that day and quickly returned above board. Brom joined her before long, standing beside her and gazing out over the calm water.

"How are you feeling, Zadí?"

"Better," Zadí admitted. "Now that I'm up here."

"It's really beautiful," Brom commented. "Being at sea is so peaceful. It feels like we're the only ones in the world. If it weren't for this dangerous quest we're on, I would describe this experience as pleasant."

"Yes," Zadí agreed. "I always thought the skies were beautiful on the Isle. But out here it's unbelievable. At night there are so many countless stars in the heavens, and they somehow seem so close."

She paused for a moment, watching abnormal little ripples in the water that Var had identified as fish breaking the surface. They had occasionally seen whales and other playful ocean creatures coming up for air and sometimes even showing off. Or so it seemed to Zadí. She liked how they would race alongside the ship, leaping out of the water in graceful arches and chattering in their funny language. Zadí spent more time at the railing than anyone else, especially since she wasn't nearly as involved in any of the training drills, so she saw these friendly sea mammals more than the others.

"Brom, I have a question," Zadí finally said after the amiable silence.

"What's that?" Brom wondered, glancing over at her.

"Did you ever hear a final report of the eight girls Isaac assaulted? Did you find them all? Did any of them have babies?"

Brom's face became serious. "We found seven, Zadí. None of those seven had babies. We offered what help we could, confirming their experiences to disbelieving family in the instances where they had shared of their misfortune. The eighth girl was his first victim. She was from Isaac's hometown. I saw her face when I probed his mind, but he was guarding his memory of her name and how he knew her. I'm not sure he was doing it consciously because I have no reason to believe that Isaac would have learned to protect his thoughts. But the information was heavily shielded and I didn't feel like digging any deeper. It was awful having to live those attacks through Isaac's memories. But she was the only one we never found."

"Did anyone try? You knew what her face looked like and where she lived."

"Yes, we sent messengers there as well. They searched for a time and asked after the girl, but the villagers were very suspicious and didn't help at all. The high queen's servants were not able to find her anywhere in town, though they had the fairth I made of her. Everyone who saw the image immediately clammed up. None of the Dragon Riders personally made it that far south, since all of us headed back to the Isle so soon after the Youth Camp ended."

Zadí nodded. "I hope that young woman is well. After Uncle Varhog talked about all of the consequences for a girl who found herself with child after such an encounter, I was so worried that one of them might have been abandoned in exactly those circumstances. Especially since I know I might have conceived had Isaac fulfilled his objective. I was fertile. I can't imagine expecting the child of a man who had attacked me like that."

Brom put his arm around her shoulders. "How are you doing with that, sweetie?"

Zadí looked at him and smiled. Var always called her sweetie now, and Zadí found that she didn't mind anymore, though she had asked Brom to stop using the endearment when she was younger. "I think I'm fine," she answered. "I don't think about it that often. Right after it happened I had a couple of nightmares, but they haven't bothered me in a few weeks. I'm glad to know that Isaac received just punishment and can't hurt anyone again."

"Yes, I'm glad to know that too. If you need to talk about it to someone, I would be happy to listen. I can be good at that, though I sometimes tend to talk and talk."

Zadí laughed softly. "I know what a good listener you are, Brom. Thanks for the offer. I'll take you up on it if I feel the need. Var has said the same thing."

"And how are you doing with _that_?" Brom echoed, this time in a teasing tone of voice. "I guess you're more of Var's sweetie these days than mine."

Zadí grinned, peeking over her shoulder toward the helm, where Var stood tall and strong. He looked back at her and returned the smile. "Lovely," she answered Brom. "Like I knew I would all along, though I stubbornly denied it for so long. He's amazing. Just like you."

"I'm glad you denied it as long as you did," Brom admitted. "Var and Will are my best friends, but I'm not sure how I would have felt had my fourteen or fifteen-year-old little sister confessed she was in love. I might have had to put my foot down."

"Put your foot down?" Zadí skeptically repeated. " _I'm_ usually the one being willful and petulant like that. _You_ are one of the calmest people I know. But I'm glad you're concerned about my well-being. I love you, big brother."

Brom smiled. "Love you too, little sister."

"Aren't the others ever going to come up for training practice?"

"They do seem to be taking their time today, don't they?" Brom observed.

"Maybe they're stalling on purpose," Zadí suggested. "You run a tight ship. No pun intended."

"Ha ha," Brom dryly remarked. "Wait, here they come now. Are you going to join us today?"

"Might as well. No one else seems to want to do any dance practicing, and I can't see it hurting anything to know how to fight a little better. But I don't have any special Riders' weapons like the rest of you, so I can really only learn self-defensive styles."

"That's still important," Brom insisted. "But if we ever have to fight in some sort of battle, I would feel better if you just stayed out of sight. I'm sure Var would agree."

"I would agree too," Zadí said. "I hate fighting."

Their friends were milling about the long boat, so Brom gave her one last quick smile before turning to face them and beginning the training drills.

-:-:-:-


	71. Part II 17 Training Drills

**17\. Training Drills**

Before Brom could say anything, Brin began, "Look sharp, ye scallywags. Skipper's on the prowl and he ain't in the mood for no nonsense."

Brin was obviously surprised when Brom growled, "That be right, ye scurvy bilge rats. No nonsense today or ye'll be bathing in the bilge water t'night." Brin giggled.

Brom laughed along with her. "Sorry. I couldn't resist. Where did you even learn to talk like that?"

"Reavstone," Brin answered. "The Surdan seaport that Var, Keeta, and I visited to obtain supplies for the ship. There were some right purdy pirates there. Or just hardened old seafarers. They were funny. But where did _you_ learn to talk like that?"

"Reading your mind," Brom mildly responded. "Only kidding, Brin. Reading books. From the Eldunarí. Things like that. But isn't Var the skipper?"

"You're the skipper of the training drills," Brin pointed out.

"Well then, you're the quartermaster."

Brin shrugged. "If you say so, cap'n. How shall we proceed today?"

"I'll leave that up to your discretion, at least with regards to the physical fighting. I'll carry on with Nefin and Hanna. Actually Nefin should help Keeta practice archery. Maybe you and Ajh can do some fencing. Will and Var, can you two participate right now?"

"I thought this was up to _my_ discretion," Brin playfully reminded.

"Right," Brom sheepishly replied. "Sorry."

Brin only laughed. "Everyone do what Brom just said. Zadí, are you in today?"

But before Zadí could respond, Var said, "I'll let Will take over at the helm. I heard a hopeful wish that someone might be interested in dance practice. I'm happy to oblige." He approached Zadí, taking her hand and smiling down at her. She smiled right back, pressing into his arm.

"So everyone has something to do?" Brom ascertained. Since everyone clearly did, he smiled at Hanna as the others divided according to his suggestions.

"What are we doing today, Brom?" Hanna inquired, following him up to the quarter deck. "More ward reversal?"

Hanna was referring to the first drill Brom had involved her in. Then, he had asked her to cast as many wards on herself as she could think of while Brom attempted to undo all of them by examining her mind and using the name of the ancient language.

"No, Hanna," Brom said. "I thought of something else. I want to help _you_ practice today, not the other way around. Angela advised you to learn how to cast protective wards against magical attacks. I was thinking I could perform harmless magical spells on the others and see if you can perceive and defend against them. Does that make sense?"

"I think so," Hanna slowly affirmed. "You'll cast some sort of spell on one of the others while I basically try to thwart you and protect them from any effects? Is that right?"

"Exactly," Brom approved. "We'll start off with only one person, but I'd like to gradually work up to involving more and more of the others. You, Nefin, and I are the only three who can protect ourselves from magical attacks, so I'm guessing that a day might come when we will count on you to also protect the others from such threats. At least, that's what Angela's counsel seems to suggest."

"Yes," Hanna agreed. "It certainly does. Very well. I'm ready to begin." And so they did.

-:-:-

Meanwhile, since Ajh and Brin had taken up their duel on the starboard side of the long boat, Nefin and Keeta had moved to the bow of the ship, and Brom and Hanna occupied the quarter deck in front of the wheel, Zadí and Var stayed right where she had started.

Var began a simple waltz with Zadí, and she rested her face against his chest like she had in Ellesméra.

"This is my kind of training drill," Zadí remarked after a few moments, lifting her face away so she could gaze up at Var with a mischievous smile.

"Mine too. I like that you'll always dance with me now whenever I ask."

"Mm-hmm. You're my new favorite partner."

"You have _always_ been _my_ favorite partner," Var informed.

"Thank you, Var. But I was wondering if you might be open to trying something new."

"Most likely. What?"

"I feel kind of silly, but I've always thought it would be really fun and pretty if someone would lift me into different positions while I danced. And you're plenty strong enough. Then I could sail around on your arms, across your shoulders, above your head. What do you think?"

Without warning, Var put either of his hands on her hips and easily lifted her straight up until his arms were fully extended above his head. "Like this?" he asked in a muffled voice, his face against her knees.

Zadí held onto his horns to keep herself steady and laughed. "Yes, something like this. But maybe with a little more planning and finesse."

Var also laughed, lowering her until their faces were level. "I'm definitely open to it, sweetie." He kissed her once before returning her feet to the deck. "If I can use my bumbling strength to help you soar around in graceful positions, I'll gladly do it. Then I can even pass off our dances as some real exercise and Brom won't be able to give me a hard time about shirking during the training drills."

"Are you saying I'm heavy?" Zadí blithely demanded.

Var pulled a face of exaggerated guiltiness, and Zadí giggled.

"I'm only kidding, Var," Zadí went on. "I know you don't think that. And I know I'm not. In fact, if I can't start keeping food down, I'm worried I'll waste away."

"My thoughts exactly," Var said. "You were already thin. Now I'm actually starting to get concerned. Are you feeling any better? I couldn't hear everything you and Brom said earlier."

"I do feel better than I did at first. Not great, but things are definitely improving."

"That's good news. You're getting your sea legs."

Zadí smiled. "I guess. Has Brom really ever given you a hard time about dancing with me during these training sessions?"

"No, Zadí," Var reassured. "I was only teasing. I think he's actually jealous. He never gets to dance with the girl he fancies. But maybe I really should engage in some fighting practice every once in a while. If there's a chance we'll have to fight at some point on this journey, I don't want to be rusty."

Zadí once again pressed her face against his chest and murmured, "I hope you won't have to. Like I told Brom, I hate fighting."

"Let's not think about it right now," Var suggested. "Tell me more about these lifts you want to try."

"Well, if we linked our arms at the elbows, you spun in a circle, and I bent my legs at the knees, then I would float around above the ground. Or, if you lifted me above your head holding my hips, like you just did, expect I would be horizontal instead of vertical and keep my body straight like a plank, then I would be high above your head. Or you could lay me across your shoulders and spin around . . ." Zadí trailed off as Var began to chuckle.

"What?"

"You _have_ been thinking about this a lot, haven't you?" Var observed.

Zadí shrugged. "Yes, I suppose. Sorry, did I go too fast?"

"No, sweetie. I'm sure you'll help me understand what I need to do. But, with the way you have been feeling, would all of that spinning be a good idea? Or what if I lost my grip and you went sailing off into the ocean?"

Zadí giggled. "I trust that you like me enough to hold on tight," she teased. "We'll just have to see about the spinning. You're right that it might make my nausea worse."

"I would imagine that many of these would require you to run toward me so we could use your momentum to get you where you want to go or to get the spinning started. Don't you think?"

"Most likely," Zadí agreed. "Maybe we can try that lower lift first, where I just link my arm through yours and you spin around." She backed up a few paces and instructed, "Move away from the rail a little."

So Var did, and for the rest of the training drills they entertained themselves by experimenting with different ways he could lift Zadí into the air while she assumed graceful dance positions with her slender body.

-:-:-:-

* * *

 **A/N:** Sorry, guys. I couldn't resist putting a little bit more ballroom dancing in there. I think it's cute that Zadí likes to dance so much in a group where they do so much fighting. And of course Var's going to go along with whatever she wants. If you've never seen the type of dancing referred to as "Theater Arts" or sometimes "Cabaret," (though not in the inappropriate sense), that is what I am talking about here. It's where a strong man lifts a slender woman into beautiful poses. The lifts are often highlights in a choreographed routine also involving a lot of open smooth work. Anyway, just to help you visualize what I mean.


	72. Part II 18 Tensions Erupt

**18\. Tensions Erupt**

Varhog looked up from his work of felling a large tree when an ominous rumble shook the ground. His companions also paused their labors, everyone staring toward the distant volcano.

"Think it's finally going to erupt?" Murtagh dryly asked. "Maybe Thorn and Snowfire did something to set it off."

Where the men might have once laughed at Murtagh's remark, no one felt amusement now. Tensions on the tropical island had been increasing during the past two weeks. Thorn and Snowfire still hadn't left, apparently far enough away from the two-legs not to be bothered by them.

The former Dragon Riders could only hope that wouldn't change. Thorn was a thirty-year-old dragon. All of them fighting together wouldn't be able to defend themselves against him should he decide to attack. Especially not with a fierce female dragon by his side.

Before any of the visiting couples and their dragons had arrived, Snowfire had identified the volcano as an ideal location for a dragon. The interior was constantly sweltering, which climate the dragons preferred. When the Riders had come and Thorn had joined her, the white dragon had shown her mate her cozy hideout, and the two had spent a great deal of time reuniting in the volcano during the week prior to Tenga's appearance. And there they had remained after Tenga's revenge.

The only advantage of the dragons' ongoing presence was that the predatory animals continued to stay out of sight. The dragons acted like it was an early mating season, hunting every day and spending a great deal of time inside the volcano's warm interior engaged in fierce, instinctive mating rituals.

Such activities involved much breathing of fire and slamming into the ground, which seemed to be enough to disturb the long dormant volcano. Tremors from the fire mountain had been increasing, along with great spurts of smoke.

When the earth remained still for several minutes, the men returned to their work, feeling an even greater sense of urgency and anxiety. They had to get off of this island.

They had made swift progress constructing the ship. With the elves' help to prepare the wood, they now had the hull nearly finished. Since the group only needed the ship for a voyage of approximately one week, as best they could figure, and it would only be carrying seventeen people, they were building a small vessel.

When not feeding the men, the women prepared food stores to pack for their journey back home, knowing supplies during the trip would be equally as important as the craft that would carry them. They hoped that many of the fresh plant foods would keep for the week-long journey, since they didn't have access to long-term dry storage foods.

Without warning, a huge boom rent the air, followed by the most forceful quaking of the earth they had yet experienced. The men again looked up, many crying out in surprise and grabbing onto anything within reach to steady themselves. They stared toward the volcano, feeling a sense of impending doom as a huge column of smoke spouted into the sky, accompanied by a great deal more explosive rumbling and a flash of bright orange light.

"Guess I should have kept my mouth shut," Murtagh sarcastically remarked, though only Varhog was close enough to hear him over the loud groaning of the earth. "At least Thorn and Snowfire might leave."

Varhog acknowledged him with a grim look before sheathing his sword and sprinting off in the direction of Tomath and Elva's hut, where he knew he would find Willow. He was vaguely aware of the other men doing the same before he was too far from their work area on the beach.

He heard the baby's wailing before he reached the dwelling. Bursting through the door, Varhog exclaimed, "Are you well in here?"

Willow sharply looked up from where she sat beside Elva on the bed. "Yes, sweetheart. But what was that loud boom? It startled Mathias and caused this new upset."

"The volcano erupted," Varhog bleakly stated. Tomath appeared in the doorway behind Varhog, his face full of concern.

Right then, Hanin's voice shouted in his mind, _Varhog, Grintuk, we need you at Eragon and Arya's hut immediately! Actually, everyone come who can be spared._

Varhog quickly explained, "The elves need help. I don't know why. Will you be all right?"

"I think so," Willow said.

"It's the lava," a pale-faced Elva informed. "It has begun running down the mountain and is nearest Eragon and Arya's hut. We will be fine here, Varhog. Tomath, I can sense that we are not in danger. Go help."

Without another word Varhog ducked back out the door and dashed through the jungle, leaping over fallen logs and tangled ferns. Tomath did his best to keep up. Minutes later he arrived at the requested location, closely followed by Murtagh.

"Help us!" Grintuk bellowed from beside the huge boulder he, Breetuk, and Firesword were attempting to move. The three newcomers immediately joined their companions, who made swifter progress with Varhog's immense strength and the power of two additional men.

"We need to create a blockade to keep the lava from running onto the beach, or it will ruin the ship," Hanin directed, pausing his magical effort only long enough to say this. Then he resumed the spell he, Maehrí, and Arya were casting to assist the physical efforts of those rolling the boulder.

The dwarves came puffing into sight and began assisting without prompting.

When the first rock was in place, the group moved on to the next.

"We don't need to worry about saving the hut," Firesword quickly said. "All we need do is keep the lava away from the beach. The elves can only divert the current for so long. This barricade needs to extend just far enough to redirect the lava. Wood will be useless. Hurry! Here it comes!"

Varhog looked up from his work, for he and the others had continued their efforts through Firesword's instructions, and noticed the river of lava roiling down the slope toward them, preceded by a swarm of running and flying jungle creatures desperate to escape destruction.

Having moved the second boulder into position, the three Urgals, two dwarves, and three humans ran to the next stone while the elves modified their spell. No longer were they helping those pushing, but instead preparing to avert the oncoming rush of molten rock.

Aided by adrenaline and a gripping sense of urgency, those rolling boulders achieved faster results for the next three segments of their barrier.

"How many more?" Varhog yelled. "We're running out of boulders in the nearby vicinity!" He wiped his brow with the back of his arm. The already muggy climate of the tropical island in midsummer was unbearable with a cascade of lava groggily churning down the mountainside only a few yards away.

Firesword glanced toward the elves, seeking enlightenment. His expression swiftly evolved into alarm as he beheld Arya sagging against the back wall of the hut, a streak of white extending through her raven black hair from her forehead to the back of her neck. He abandoned his post and darted to his wife's side.

"Arya!" Firesword exclaimed. "What's happening?"

If Arya responded, Varhog didn't hear, for a log behind them popped loudly as it burst into flames under the relentless, blistering onslaught.

"Just keep going!" Grintuk roared over the noise. "We can't risk losing the ship! If we can extend the barrier to that drop off, the lava will flow down that slope rather than this one."

"There go Thorn and Snowfire," Murtagh grunted, never ceasing his efforts of pushing the stone into place. "Let's look on the bright side, folks." His hard expression betrayed no hint of humor.

The manual laborers had to run farther to reach the next stone, but their efforts seemed fruitful, for the flow of lava was following the course they created with the lined-up boulders. As they lumbered by behind the heavy rock, Varhog noticed that Hanin now looked dangerously worn out. Maehrí repeatedly glanced at her husband in concern.

After several more painstaking minutes crawled by and they had added five more boulders to their blockade, Maehrí wearily cried in their minds, _I believe that is enough! We encouraged the heat from the lava to melt the bases of those boulders into a seamless length so it will not escape between the cracks. Then we reinforced the barricade to be heat resistant enough to withstand the flow of magma until it has subsided. But we can do no more. Arya and Hanin are completely exhausted. We must gather everyone together on the beach to discuss this situation. Varhog, will you help Hanin? I am too drained, and I do not think he can make it there on his own right now._

Varhog nodded curtly, again wiping his dripping brow as he made his way to Hanin's side. But his shirt was also soaked and did nothing to remove the moisture. "Sorry about my stench," he apologized as he unceremoniously scooped Hanin into his arms and carried him like a baby toward the beach.

Hanin smiled faintly but made no other response. Varhog felt the same alarm he had seen in Firesword's countenance as he swept a brief glance over the elf's face. Fine wrinkles creased his once marble smooth skin, and his coal black hair was peppered with white. Hanin seemed unable to control that his head sagged right into Varhog's sweaty chest.

Tomath walked alongside Varhog. Before they reached the beach, he muttered, "Varhog, I'm going back to check on Elva and Mathias. I'll join you on the beach right after."

By the time the party arrived on the beach, a dingy, deep-red haze hung in the air, colored by the light of the sunset, ash from the explosion, and steam from the ocean where the lava flowed into it. All of the women save Elva and Willow had also assembled. Distant tremors infrequently shook the ground, but the worst of the rumblings seemed to have abated.

"I don't even know how to begin," Firesword admitted. "I suppose I can at least be thankful that everyone is unharmed and alive after that."

"And so is the ship," Grintuk pointed out.

Firesword nodded, repeating, "So is the ship. Are Willow, Elva, and the baby also safe, Varhog?"

Varhog glanced at Tomath, who had just rejoined them.

"They are," Tomath quietly confirmed.

"What's wrong with the elves?" Varhog bluntly asked, too tired to bother with manners.

Firesword carried Arya in the same position that Varhog held Hanin.

At that moment Hanin weakly said, "You can set me down now, brother. Thank you for bringing me here."

Varhog carefully released his hold on the elf, who sank down to sit in the sand.

"I don't know," Firesword replied in answer to Varhog's question. "Maehrí, do you?"

Maehrí had joined her husband on the ground. After gratefully accepting a water skin from Greta, taking a long drink, and then handing it to Hanin, Maehrí said, "I'm not sure. None of us was able to perform the magic as easily as we once could. The effort was so intense and prolonged, which would be draining under normal circumstances. But this was worse. It is like we are . . ."

"Aging," Arya lifelessly finished. "Aging very rapidly, now that the magic of the Dragon Rider pact has been cancelled. And it affected myself and Hanin more severely because we are older than Maehrí. Magic seems only to exacerbate it. I have been feeling odd these past two weeks whenever I used magic, but I stubbornly tried to ignore these consequences, insisting they were only my imagination."

"Can it be helped?" Firesword anxiously questioned.

"I do not know," Arya said. "We would be wise to limit or completely cease all magical efforts. I fear we elves are now as susceptible to death as any mortal being. And I am over a hundred and thirty years old. Far older than most humans or Urgals when death finds them."

Firesword appeared to be speechless as he contemplated this disturbing discovery, so Varhog took over. "It is now past dinnertime. We should eat and retire. For tonight, let us remain in the huts. We are all too fatigued to consider setting up a camp on the beach right now. But that should be our first priority in the morning. Thorn and Snowfire finally flew away during the eruption. We don't want to face a wild animal attack after all that happened today."

"We had dinner started before the explosion," Nasuada shared. "Varhog's proposal is sound. Let us not delay."

"But do we need to worry about this ash?" Greta wondered. "Is it safe to breathe?"

"Stay in the huts," Varhog instructed. "Keep the windows and doors closed. We will discuss that potential concern in the morning."

Everyone was just as tired and distraught as those who had redirected the lava. No one asked further questions, and conversation was minimal during dinner. Varhog and Tomath carried plates back to their wives after helping cleanup the meal.


	73. Part II 19 New Threat on the Island

**19\. New Threat on the Island**

The four adult inhabitants of Tomath and Elva's hut lay still in breathless silence. The new baby had finally fallen asleep after a rough night following the noise and confusion of that stressful day. They feared that if they even breathed, it might disturb the infant and lead to another several hours of fussing and crying.

Elva and Tomath soon followed their sweet son into the land of dreams. But Willow and Varhog, who were staying with the new parents to ease their transition into the challenging role, remained awake longer.

Once they would have communicated with their minds, but they no longer had that ability. So they snuggled together on their comfortable floor mat, content to remain silent until enough time had passed that they felt it safe to begin whispering.

Willow began by saying, "Varhog, I think I'm pregnant again. It's so strange that I can't simply discover with my mind."

"That _is_ strange," he agreed. "I'm sure Arya would be willing to confirm that suspicion, but maybe we shouldn't ask her after today's troubling realization." He was, of course, referring to the accelerated aging process the elves were experiencing, which dilemma he had shared with Willow after washing himself in the pool near Tomath's hut.

Varhog finished, "Congratulations, Eartheyes. Ten babies we have made."

"But I feel different this time," Willow said. "Different even from with any of the twins. I actually feel sick, which I never have before. I wonder if it just has something to do with being a little older."

"I'm sorry, Willow," Varhog said in concern. "Let's try to get some sleep now. You must be tired."

"Yes," Willow confirmed. "But probably not as tired as you. Poor Mathias. He had a hard time settling down tonight, though I can understand why. Today was trying for everyone. I hope he gives Elva and Tomath a good stretch of rest."

Varhog didn't reply, hoping Willow would soon feel relaxed enough to drift off. He stroked her back and hair until her even breathing revealed that she was asleep.

Varhog stayed awake as long as he could, fighting his exhaustion and the nagging worry that the baby's cries might have alerted certain nocturnal jungle predators to their location. So far the people staying on the island hadn't encountered any trouble with the formerly cautious hunters. However, after Thorn and Snowfire's hasty departure earlier that day, Varhog knew they might not be as fortunate in avoiding trouble.

But due to the intensive nature of their exercise that day, Varhog couldn't resist the pull of fatigue for long. He soon slipped into a tense sleep.

-:-:-

Elva's terrified shriek woke him what felt like only moments later. "Tomath!" she screamed. "The baby!"

Varhog's groggy mind did not immediately comprehend what was happening, but the haze quickly departed when a low, menacing growl filled the hut. Varhog felt something thick, rope-like, and furry brush past his face as he rapidly sat up. A muffled thump indicated some type of contact.

The bump was accompanied by an angry snarl, and Varhog realized that Tomath must have swung out and made contact with the creature sharing the hut with them. But the pitch blackness inside was absolute. The animal must have also been completely black.

When the furry rope—tail—once again swung by, Varhog grabbed on and yanked hard, hoping to pull the beast away from the family on the bed. The stealthy cat reacted with alarming speed, spitting with rage and turning toward Varhog to pounce right on his chest. Yellow eyes just like his gleamed above razor sharp fangs that narrowly missed Varhog's throat as he lurched backward, struggling to get his hands between himself and the jaguar who had snuck in for what it hoped would be an easy midnight snack.

Willow's screams now joined Elva's initial shrieks and the baby's renewed wailing. The confusion in the hut only increased, but Varhog's eyes were adjusting to the dim light. Varhog focused on the large cat's head. With his hands holding the hunter's mouth closed, he could do little about the blade-like claws gouging into his bare chest.

Varhog bellowed in agony, rearing up and pushing the beast toward the door. The predator must have been intelligent enough to push the handle down with its snout and nudge the door open to enter the hut.

Varhog forced the cat to stand on its hind feet. In this position, the creature was actually taller than he, its sinewy body sleek and powerful. But Varhog was stronger still, and he drove the jaguar backward through the open door, stifled snarls snuffling through its nostrils.

As the cat continued to rake its claws along Varhog's torso, he knew he had no choice but to kill it quickly. Injuries such as these were dangerous indeed, especially due to the severely restricted nature of magical ability on the island. Varhog used his grip on the jaguar's maw to decisively wrench its head to one side. He cringed as the animal's neck snapped and it collapsed to the ground in a shuddering heap.

Aware of the blood pouring from many deep cuts on his chest and abdomen, Varhog groaned and turned back toward the hut. A light flickered to life inside, and Varhog was able to easily discern the four remaining inhabitants of the small dwelling.

Tomath held the lantern. Willow had made her way to Elva's bedside and now spoke in soothing tones to calm the distraught young mother, who must have been experiencing her companions' fear and Varhog's pain on top of the fact that a hungry predator had just tried to eat her baby. Willow helped Elva bring her squalling son to her breast, where the sudden appearance of food and comfort brought an immediate end to his insistent cries.

Willow remained where she was, gently stroking Elva's back and hair until she relaxed. Then she looked up at Varhog standing in the doorway and her face paled.

"Varhog!" she exclaimed. "Look at you! You'll bleed to death! Lie down, sweetheart!"

Varhog needed no further prompting. He was already feeling lightheaded from blood loss, and he slumped forward, doing his best not to land facedown.

"Tomath," Elva urged from the bed. "Run fetch Maehrí. Those scratches are very deep. Even if Willow bandages them, it won't be enough. Varhog is losing too much blood."

Tomath set the lantern on the bedside table and sprang up, darting out into the night without speaking a word.

Willow had swiftly made her way to Varhog's side. He stared into her beautiful face as she attempted to dress his wounds using the clean shirt he had removed before lying down to sleep. Varhog could see how she struggled to maintain her composure, but several tears defiantly fell from her eyes in spite of her determination.

"I wish I could just heal them!" she cried in frustration.

"I'll be fine, Eartheyes," Varhog whispered.

When she met his eyes and observed his pain, Willow's control wavered. "Sorry I'm hurting you, Varhog. There are so many, and they're so deep. I can't put enough pressure on all of them at once." He felt her hands trembling on his chest as she pushed against the gashes.

"Lie down on me," Varhog weakly invited.

Willow smiled faintly, more tears joining the first. But she did as he suggested, gingerly lying down on his chest in an attempt to stem to blood flow. Her tears stung the gaping slashes under his collarbone.

Varhog grunted, but otherwise made no sound to indicate his misery. _Stay conscious_ , he stubbornly thought. _You will_ not _die like this._

Tomath soon returned with Maehrí, though it took longer than Varhog expected. But Varhog knew how exhausted she must be in her advanced stage of pregnancy and after her prolonged magical efforts that day.

Willow carefully raised herself off of Varhog to avoid reopening cuts that had begun to clot. Coughing, Maehrí knelt down opposite Varhog's wife and surveyed the carnage.

"Is it hard to breathe out there?" Willow questioned.

Maehrí nodded. "Yes, but the air is thick with moisture. I believe it will soon start raining, which might help clear away the ash. It would be a blessing after all that happened today. I know we elves wouldn't have the strength to shield our company from the ash or to blow it away."

Maehrí then apologetically looked toward Varhog's face, apparently ashamed by what she was about to say.

"Varhog, I'm not sure I can fully heal these," she softly confessed. "Not even if I'm borrowing energy from my sword. I'm so tired right now. I think the best I can do is close the lacerations, but the wounds will have to heal on their own from there. I may reassess the situation again in a few days when I have had more time to recover."

"That is enough, Maehrí," Varhog reassured. "Do not overexert yourself. If that proves too much, Willow can also stitch the cuts closed. It won't be the first time I have lived through a cut healing on its own. I'm an Urgal, after all, and was only a Dragon Rider thirty of my fifty-two years." He did his best to smile, but wasn't sure how well he succeeded.

Maehrí did her best to return it, and based on her success, Varhog decided his face must have managed barely more than a grimace. So he simply returned his eyes to Willow's and focused on her soft hand as she stroked his cheek. Though he no longer heard the thoughts she would have undoubtedly once shared, Varhog nonetheless had her silent message memorized and found comfort in the reassurance of her love.

Some time later, Maehrí's quiet singing ceased. She wearily bowed her head.

"Thank you, sister," Varhog gently said.

"I couldn't remove all of the pain."

"I have felt worse before," Varhog dismissed. "Would you rest here until morning?"

"No," Maehrí declined. "I wish to return to Hanin. But. . . ." She cautiously glanced up at Willow. "Willow, did you know you are expecting?"

Willow looked mildly surprised as she answered, "I had begun to suspect the past few days. You could sense the baby with your mind?"

"Yes, when I was healing Varhog, I couldn't help but notice the energy. Because . . . because there is more than one baby."

"Twins?" Willow uncertainly asked. Varhog felt the same confusion over Maehrí's hesitant manner.

"No," Maehrí said. "Triplets. You are expecting three babies, Willow."

-:-:-:-


	74. Part II 20 Bad

**20\. Bad**

Isaac glared at the stone ceiling above him. He lay on the cot in his prison cell. The dungeons in Ilirea really weren't that bad. Isaac had spent time in other jails, and some of them were barely better than pig pens or outhouses. He supposed he should be grateful that his accommodations were so pleasant, especially since he apparently had to spend the rest of his life here.

Growling in frustration, Isaac rolled off the cot and landed on the floor, where he started doing pushups. At his request, the jailors brought new books every week, but he had finished all the new ones and so had nothing to do but exercise. He had been doing a lot of that lately.

This punishment was just about the worst thing Isaac could picture. His ability to go wherever he wanted, whenever he wanted, and do whatever he wanted was the best part of his former lifestyle. Since he could always pick up and move on when needed, he never had to confront the past or any consequences of his immoral behavior. Dras-Leona had suited him because there were plenty of alehouses and brothels for him to sate his lusts and he had never felt the need to attack any girls like before.

But now he couldn't run anymore. He couldn't hide from the past, and his memories had been his unwelcome companions during the long weeks of imprisonment. Coming to the Choosing Ceremony had been a stupid mistake. Isaac never expected to become a Dragon Rider, nor had he even wanted to. But even stupider was his decision to confront one of the Dragon Riders. Had he honestly thought he would be able to best one of them? And his resultant feeling of weakness had rekindled his desire to assault a helpless female.

Uninvited, Isaac's thoughts returned to Sara. She had frequently been on his mind. Sara, the only girl he had actually loved before forcing himself upon her. But it hadn't started that way. Sara loved him back, and he had finally convinced her that sharing their love physically was the natural next step in their relationship. Her hesitation had always been that she wanted to first marry, but Isaac hadn't thought that was necessary, nor had he been ready to support a wife. At that time—three years earlier—he had still lived with his parents and didn't have an occupation of his own.

So after months of working up to it, they had snuck off to a secret place where Isaac expected to finally succeed in experiencing intimate love. And Sara had seemed excited at first. She had gone along with his advances. But when they had started undressing and he was touching her body, she had protested, again insisting that she wanted to do this but not until they were married. She had told him that she would wait for him to begin his livelihood so he could support her and a family, but Isaac hadn't wanted to wait. Especially not when he was so aroused and so close.

So he had ignored her objections and forced her to continue. Isaac remembered how easy it had been to hold her down, to finish what they had started. He remembered her screams of pain and fear, her tears, her begging. In the moment, he had barely noticed, focused as he was on how amazing the experience was for _him_. But after, he had been surprised by how strong and dominant he felt as he looked down at Sara and recognized her look of broken defeat. His twinge of regret over betraying her was insignificant compared to the sense of empowerment. That was his hook, and Isaac found that he craved that feeling of power.

Isaac had run away. His father loved Sara, and rather than risk getting in trouble in case his father believed her story, Isaac just left town with the intention of never returning.

But at his recent trial when the Urgal Dragon Rider had forced him to consider what might have happened to his victims after his treatment of them, Isaac had begun to give more thought to his actions. And that was when he had started thinking about Sara. What if she had become pregnant? What if Isaac had a child with the only girl he had ever loved?

These buddings of remorse were the worst part of his captivity. Isaac hated the insufferable Dragon Riders and how they had inflicted this fate upon him. They were so strong, amazing fighters, and skilled magicians. On top of that, they were so morally upright and _perfect_.

Morals had never been Isaac's strong point. But he was beginning to feel some sense of guilt and didn't want to admit that he had been wrong. Because that would mean the Dragon Riders might have been right.

Isaac flipped to his back and began doing sit-ups, not knowing how much more of this internal struggle he could handle.

-:-:-:-

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks to the four people who have left their thoughts after the last several chapters. I know there are more of you reading. I'd love to hear what you think! I don't know how the rest of you are liking the story. It keeps me motivated when I know people are enjoying the new stuff. I also love feedback, questions, or thoughts. So many of you have inspired important scenes and elements in the story, so I definitely take such suggestions into consideration.


	75. Part II 21 Worse

**A/N:** I know yesterday's chapter was quite short. I just wanted to briefly remind you about Isaac to set up some important things to come. But to show you how grateful I am for all of the feedback and reviews, I thought I would post the next chapter today. You might be able to guess from the titles of this chapter and the last whose perspective the next chapter will be from. You'll find out if you're right on Wednesday! ~Autumn :)

* * *

 **21\. Worse**

Tenga soon found that weekly visits to Ilirea were almost a necessity. Terror and chaos had indeed begun to rule in Alagaёsia, just as he had hoped. Trianna, of course, reveled in and encouraged these circumstances, but their special project had begun to demand more of his attention and more careful planning.

But during one of his stays on Vroengard, Tenga decided to ask Lena if she would take a picnic with him. Lena had now been his prisoner for about five weeks, and Tenga identified a growing fondness for the girl. He hadn't expected such feelings, most likely due to his intense loathing of Lena's mother. But the child was so pleasant, intelligent, obliging. She had never whined, begged, or balked. She provided welcome respite from the sniveling, reverential awe the other magicians always exhibited in his presence. And Tenga never found anything suspicious in her mind to suggest that she was working against him.

After her first solitary picnic, she had returned with a basketful of apples and raspberries and innocently inquired after their safety. Once Tenga had ascertained the fruit's edibleness, Lena had promptly created the most delightful preserves, desserts, and sauces for Tenga. He hadn't enjoyed such delicacies in what seemed like decades.

So he had thought nothing of her request to return to the orchard and patches where such fruit grew and bring back more, so as to continue producing such enjoyable treats. At first Tenga hadn't given any thought to the location of the plants, for many wild fruit trees and bushes grew on Vroengard. But before long he had realized that both apples and raspberries grew near the Rock of Kuthian, and he had begun to worry that Lena might be doing more during her frequent excursions than gathering fruit.

On the morning that he proposed taking a picnic, Lena readily agreed, just as he anticipated. She asked where he would like to go, and Tenga suggested that she take him to her favorite location.

"How about you show me these wonderful apple orchards and raspberry patches? I am indeed grateful you discovered them and have made me such fine treats from their abundant offerings."

"Of course, Tenga," Lena immediately consented. As always, no hesitation or worry, as if she was completely unaware—or unconcerned, at least—that he might have reason to mistrust her. "I will prepare a lunch for us at once."

When the preparations were complete, the pair set off toward Lena's regular retreat, and Tenga was unsurprised that she led him directly to the overgrown clearing in front of the Rock of Kuthian.

"Here is where I usually come," Lena informed. "Since both fruits grow so close together, the convenience saves me time. Shall we eat out here in the sunshine? I prefer not to tarry too long in the orchard. It seems alive and foreboding."

"So it does, dear child. Let us sit in the sun."

Lena removed a blanket off the top of the basket that Tenga had offered to carry, though she was as able-bodied as he, and spread it out over part of ground relatively free from brambles and briars. Then she set out the picnic after they both sat.

They quietly ate for a time, Tenga considering if and how he should question Lena's activities in the area, when Lena commented, "What a lovely day. I imagine this place was beautiful indeed before the destruction wrought by Galbatorix. Did you ever visit here in those days?"

"I did, dear girl," Tenga confirmed. "And it was indeed magnificent."

"You were friends with the Riders of old?"

"Yes, Lena. I was. We shared magical wisdom we had gained. I agreed with their peaceable ways."

"What a shame you couldn't enjoy such an amiable rapport with the modern Riders. My father always worried that my mother's incessant searching would trouble you enough to create the exact outcome she hoped to avoid."

"And so it did," Tenga mused. "Did you agree with your mother's measures?"

"No, Tenga. For the most part it seemed like the Dragon Riders were able to maintain peace among the magical population. There are unquestionably magicians who desire to use their abilities to harm others, but the majority of them, at least from what I was able to observe, only used their skill for good or to simplify their lives."

Tenga nodded. "Did you have other opinions on the matter?" he curiously asked.

"Yes. I thought the misuse of the dragons' Eldunarí responsible for the greatest tragedies in Alagaёsia. They were the only way Galbatorix was able to stand against and defeat the other Riders and dragons, and they were also to blame for the near invincibility of the Urgal King Kulkarvek."

"I see," Tenga carefully said. "Lena, have you been visiting this clearing for reasons other than to gather fruit?"

"What other reason could there be?" she innocently inquired.

Tenga scowled. Lena always seemed to know just how to counter his questions with more questions that he could not easily answer. "When we first came here, I brought you to this clearing. As we left, you identified that stone monolith as the Rock of Kuthian. And just now you mentioned Eldunarí. Surely you know the history as well as I. You know what once hid beyond that barrier?"

"Certainly," Lena verified. "Eragon Shadeslayer is my uncle, after all. Beyond the Rock of Kuthian lies the Vault of Souls, wherein once lay hundreds of Eldunarí and dragon eggs, hidden by the ancient Riders for safekeeping. But my understanding is that nothing of import has since occupied the empty vault. Has that changed?"

Tenga shrewdly regarded Lena. If he avoided her question, he would be indirectly confirming it. But how could he truthfully answer? Tenga decided that there could be no harm in selectively sharing some information with the girl. There was no way she would have been able to access the vault, was there? A nineteen-year-old girl wouldn't have gone to the trouble of learning her true name, would she? But Lena was no ordinary young woman, as Tenga clearly knew. Perhaps she _had_ discovered her true name. And if she had. . . .

Tenga shifted uncomfortably, now contemplating what Lena might have already learned had she, in fact, visited the Vault of Souls.

Before he could give any more thought to this disturbing possibility, Lena broke the lengthening silence by saying, "Tenga, I've always been curious how you were able to reverse the Dragon Rider pact. That was a very impressive, ambitious undertaking. I know my many questions often aggravate you, so you needn't answer. But my uncle has said before that you are a man always seeking knowledge and enlightenment. I admire that you were able to accomplish what many would have deemed impossible."

Tenga straightened, unconsciously swelling somewhat with the praise. Yes, there could be no harm in sharing some of his brilliance. Lena seemed sincerely and harmlessly interested.

"Yes, many would have thought it impossible, wouldn't they?" Tenga began, chuckling indulgently. "But for those who are persistent and curious enough, there is an answer to any question. And my question was this: What became of the first Dragon Rider and his dragon? I knew they played an indispensable role in the establishment of the Dragon Rider pact, so I hypothesized that they must also be involved if one ever wanted to nullify that treaty.

"I began digging for information. For many years I frequented the largest libraries in the land and also came here to question the monks who have secretly resided on this island for generations. Facts were scarce, but I soon had a lead, which I followed. You already know that I can travel great distances at an astonishing speed, and I engaged in this form of travel to visit the locale where it was rumored that the first Dragon Rider, Eragon, and his white dragon, Bid'Daum, had retired.

"The land is far from here and would therefore be nameless to you, but once I arrived there, it wasn't difficult to see that the rumor was true. Keep in mind, the reason no one had previously discovered this information is simply because they didn't want to know as keenly as I, nor are many people patient enough to take the time to discover the answers to very difficult, long-buried questions. Living a great length of time does tend to give one patience.

"At any rate, there was a skeleton the size of a mountain range occupying a large portion of this deserted island. The dragon Bid'Daum died long enough ago that his flesh had long since rotted from his bones. And, of course, right by his enormous skull sat the skeletal remains of an elf, though an elf's bones really look no different from a humans'. I naturally assumed it was an elf and the dragon's Rider Eragon, for who else would it be? I can only guess that they both simply allowed themselves to starve to death. I have lived long enough that I can understand the sentiment. Eventually, if one does not actively find a motivation to continue existing, living forever loses all appeal. Perhaps my insatiable quest for knowledge and answers has fueled my desire to endure all these years.

"But, to my relief, the dragon's mountainous Eldunarí remained within his cavernous ribcage, and the dragon had transferred his consciousness to this structure. For who knows how many countless years, the dragon had endured with no company or interaction. However, without a means to end his own existence, he had simply retreated as deep within his heart of hearts as he possibly could go, perhaps attempting to pretend he really was fully dead.

"Anyway, an Eldunarí that large has an almost inexhaustible supply of energy, whether they intentionally assist someone with their vitality or not. So I replenished all of my depleted stones, which I had used to travel to the island, and performed the spell that would magically shrink Bid'Daum's Eldunarí, thereby allowing myself to transport it out of the dragon's skeleton and away from the island.

"So you see, Lena, obtaining that Eldunarí was a critical element in my plot to overthrow the Riders."

"How fascinating!" Lena breathed. "I am impressed that you so diligently discovered that particular information and found the remains of the first Dragon Rider and his dragon. Do you carry Bid'Daum's magically reduced Eldunarí with you everywhere you go? So as to sustain your magical efforts?"

"No, dear girl. I lived this long without borrowing from such power sources, as Galbatorix did. I have stored the heart of hearts. And you have undoubtedly guessed that the most logical hiding place is a location specifically designed to mask such objects' great energy, even the Vault of Souls."

Lena looked toward the Rock of Kuthian in surprise. "Right here on this very island? Amazing! And ironic, when you think about it. Here lies the Eldunarí of the first bonded dragon, in the graveyard remains of the ancient Dragon Riders' home. I am honored, indeed, that you condescended to share that with me. Thank you, Tenga."

Tenga nodded superciliously. "You are welcome, Lena. But you know, all this talk of Bid'Daum's Eldunarí has reminded me that I haven't once been to check on him since our arrival. Not that anything could really happen to him, but I am of a mind to ascertain that all is well down there. Would you be willing to excuse me for a moment?"

Tenga carefully studied Lena as she answered, hoping to discern any clue that she might be unsettled by his proposal. But she calmly returned his gaze and said, "Of course, Tenga. A sound idea. Might I perhaps be allowed to accompany you? I must admit that I'm dreadfully curious."

Tenga began to consider her request when a voice from the pocket of his robe distracted him. He looked down, perplexed, before realizing what was happening. Then, after removing the enchanted mirror from his pocket, he demanded, "What is it, Trianna?"

"Master," the ghastly woman answered, "I have just learned something most interesting from one of my spies. I can tell you through the mirror, if you would like, but I would suggest you not allow your dear prisoner to hear, if she is near. If you would prefer to hear it in person, I also need to discuss the details of my particular assignment with you. My charges become less reasonable by the day."

"Silence!" Tenga hissed, nervously stroking his long, gray beard. He didn't want Lena to hear any of this, but she clearly could and Tenga could feel her piercing observation. "I will come at once."

He cancelled Trianna's spell so he wouldn't have to behold her abominable appearance any longer and looked back up at Lena. "Forgive the interruption, dear child. I shall have to verify Bid'Daum's well-being at a different time. And I will consider your request to accompany me. But, as you clearly just heard, I am needed in Ilirea and will depart with all due haste. Expect my return later this evening or tomorrow morning."

"I understand, Tenga," Lena said, standing to see him off as he hurriedly abandoned Vroengard.

-:-:-

Once the old wizard was out of sight, Lena inhaled very slowly and let her breath back out for even longer. Then she deliberately turned toward the Rock of Kuthian and said her true name. That had been so close. What if Tenga had gone inside and found evidence of her many visits?

Lena slowly descended the stone corridor to the Vault of Souls below, weighing all that she had just learned. But what kept returning to her mind was what she had overheard the Shade say right before Tenga had left. Trianna had learned something from one of her spies. And her charges grew less reasonable by the day. Who were her charges? What had she learned that Tenga would want to know about right away, but without Lena around to overhear?

Lena didn't know, but she had arrived in the underground cavern and so put the matter from her mind. She withdrew the new bundle of food that she had planned to leave somewhere near the Vault's entrance for one of the elves to retrieve, provided she could come up with a way to do so without arousing Tenga's suspicions.

Lena hadn't needed to resort to anything deceptive, but she now communicated with the shriveled old women and increasingly healthier-looking werecat, "I was just now picnicking with Tenga in the clearing outside this Vault, and he nearly came inside to check on Bid'Daum. And you as well, no doubt, though he said nothing of that to me. He still believes I have no knowledge of you. But he intends to come at some point. I will remove all of these cloths that I have packed food in, but I implore you to do your best to think of a believable excuse for being alive, should Tenga happen to visit. I imagine he would expect you to be dead by now. Perhaps your altered appearance will lend credence to your story about using magic to exit the vault and ascertain the safety of the food in the clearing. And Swiftpaw, you would probably do best just to hide, though I don't know how you would have any warning of his approach."

 _I can hear when you approach_ , Swiftpaw shared. _I could always hear when Tenga used to visit. Then there was no point in hiding because he always brought food. But since he clearly assumes that I am dead, from now on I will not hesitate to quickly retreat if I hear someone coming. I will not show myself unless I am sure it is you visiting and not Tenga._

"Good. That is good to know, Swiftpaw." Lena turned her attention to the elves, and her heart sank. Though they had performed no further magic, their condition had worsened in the past four weeks. Iduna was now blind. Nёya could barely hear. It was a miracle they were still alive, but Lena prayed every day that the miracle would continue to sustain them. Nothing any of them had tried altered Bid'Daum's apathetic disregard to the world around him.

Lena was beginning to feel desperate. She knew her friends were most likely months away from arriving, if they could sail directly to her. But who knew what sort of obstacles they might run into? And even if they did come straight to Vroengard, what would stop Tenga from simply taking the Eldunarí and Lena and leaving her friends far behind, as he had done when he kidnapped her?

Lena sank to the hot stone floor in front of the former Caretakers and began weeping, completely overcome by hopelessness. When Swiftpaw crouched down beside her, laying her head in Lena's lap, she found little comfort in the gesture, though she automatically began stroking her ears all the same.

-:-:-:-


	76. Part II 22 Worst

**22\. Worst**

Trianna impatiently awaited Tenga's arrival, drumming her fingers against the fine wood desk in the former high queen's personal office. Trianna was impatient about everything these days, especially after learning her most faithful spy's recent report. How could nine children be sailing straight toward Tenga's hideout? And the most crucial element in Tenga's plot to permanently destroy the Dragon Riders was months away from fruition. There was nothing Trianna could do to speed that aspect of the plan.

The Shade sharply looked up as Tenga spoke her name.

"Trianna, what is it?" he snapped, moving away from the balcony's open door. "You scryed me when Lena was sitting right with me. She is too clever to risk allowing her to overhear anything. She may eventually guess your meaning. Next time ensure that I am alone before proceeding to share your messages."

Trianna struggled to quell her anger. Tenga might still be her superior now, but one day that would change. Trianna would see to it that she was the most powerful and feared tyrant in the land. Indeed, she already was the most feared, for few people even knew about Tenga. But many citizens of Alagaёsia were learning that a Shade now ruled in Ilirea.

"Yes, of course, master," she humbly replied. "My apologies. Do you continue to worry about the girl's reliability?"

"Of her reliability, there is no question. She performs every task assigned her with nary a complaint and with a meticulousness I had not thought possible of one raised as a crown princess. But I am concerned that she may be secretly visiting the Vault of Souls. Yet, when I probe her mind, there is nothing to implicate her, nothing suspicious whatsoever. She provides no resistance to such measures at all."

"What do you see when you enter her mind?" Trianna asked.

"A beautiful garden surrounding a quaint gazebo. She once told me there is a place on the palace grounds like the scene in her mind and that she duplicated it to provide herself a sense of familiarity and comfort. I have ascertained the truthfulness of her assertion by visiting the grounds here. There is in fact just such a location. I can confirm the honesty of everything she has ever told me by searching her mind."

"Perhaps she is hiding something inside that gazebo," the Shade suggested.

"I have thought that, but I can see right into it, for there are no walls. I can even enter it through the doorway. Let us speak of this no longer. What pressing news did you learn that compelled you to summon me here?"

"My favorite spies are loathsome creatures. The species most people shun. One of my ravens just returned to inform me that he has been following a certain ship for approximately a week. The vessel just passed the Surdan port Reavstone. From all appearances, it is sailing directly toward Vroengard, or will be, once the land no longer blocks its course."

"Impossible!" Tenga exclaimed. "And who is sailing the ship?"

"Nine youth, all of whom I have identified as children of the more senior Dragon Riders, after hearing my bird's careful descriptions. Seven of them were also Dragon Riders before your curse removed their abilities."

"But I destroyed the only ship on the Isle!" Tenga raged. "How could they have set sail so soon? And how do they know where to go?"

"I do not know, master," Trianna regretfully informed. "My spy will return and continue watching these children. Would you like me to personally interfere?"

Tenga paced back and forth, muttering madly and pulling on his beard. "No," he finally barked. "I need you to stay here and keep our other secret as hidden as it can be. Those children are far enough away. And I can simply leave Vroengard with Lena if I need to." His face twisted into a smile of cruel amusement. "Wouldn't it be fun to lead them on a wild goose chase all over the world so that they would never accomplish their objective, if they actually do intend to rescue Lena? Poor, stupid souls. Do they really think they could outsmart old Tenga so easily?"

"It does seem rather juvenile," Trianna remarked. "But why would we expect anything else from a group of young people?"

"Why, indeed? Now, Trianna, what difficulties are you facing with your most important task?"

"My charges grow increasingly ravenous the closer they get to transforming," Trianna explained. "Where they were once satisfied with feeding every three to four weeks, they insist on eating more often now. We are running out of options for continuing their preferred diet."

"Human flesh," Tenga unemotionally stated. "So we no longer have enough volunteers from the priests of Helgrind? They consider it an honor to feed their gods."

"They have most zealously risen to the occasion," Trianna said. "But their deities now wish to eat every week. And as they will remain in their pupae stage for several more months—"

"Seven," Tenga interjected. "They hatched right around the same time that Eragon and Arya Shadeslayer's first son was born, and he is also approaching his twentieth birthday this next spring."

"How ironic," Trianna observed. "So they demand to eat a full human every week for the next seven months. That would be at least thirty people. Though they are willing, the priests of Helgrind simply will not satisfy those needs. They have not yet recovered their numbers, especially since their gods have remained so hidden all of these years."

"Yes, and we can't send the younger ones out to hunt humans. They too must remain as secret as possible. Nor do we want to finish off all of the priests, despicable though they are. Have you thought of any possible solutions?"

"I would dearly love to feed them the whining brats and wailing babies whose shrieks of terror pierce my ears wherever I happen to visit. You would think my new subjects would be more honored when their fearless leader favors them with a personal appearance, but no."

"Babies and children," Tenga mused, releasing a jolly titter. "What a delightful idea. I might seriously consider that, Trianna. But, in the meantime, perhaps we would be wise to opt for adult humans. They will, after all, be more filling. We want our special monsters to be strong and healthy when they transform. Involving them in the ultimate destruction of the former Dragon Riders will be so much more dramatic and fulfilling than simply ending their lives with magic. Yes, those unfortunate souls will have had plenty of time to suffer and toil when our newly transformed fiends are ready to eat them for dinner. We should serve them these nine youth as their appetizer before sending them off to the tropical island."

"A lovely proposal," Trianna approved. "And I too recognize the necessity of providing them with filling meals until their birthday. Feeding them babies and children might serve as a productive threat in the future, if parents are reluctant to comply with our demands. But until then, I had thought we might select their meals from the prisoners here in the royal dungeons. There are not many, but I do believe there are at least thirty. Apparently there are more upright citizens than criminals in the high queen's city. We shall have to see about changing that ratio. What do you think, master? Shall I bring them here and allow them to feast on the prisoners?"

"That seems a fitting compromise, Trianna," Tenga sanctioned. "Though it might border too closely on mercy for my tastes. Punishing those actually deserving of punishment rather than cruelly ending the lives of innocent people. Alas, no one will be able to accuse us of not doing our part in maintaining justice and order in Ilirea." He twittered again.

Trianna smiled coldly. "No, indeed. I am quite looking forward to this new change in routine. Perhaps I will even watch some of these banquets. Well, that effectively solves my most pressing dilemma. I can handle the rest. Most of the determined opposition has caved to my ruthless measures. Men will do anything I want when I threaten their wives and children. And I can always just coerce the really stubborn ones using magic. All of the palace guard now serves me. Many people have gone into hiding, but there will be time to ferret them out and win them over."

"That there shall," Tenga agreed. "I am proud of your efforts, Trianna. I knew I would be able to rely on you. I will leave you to implement these new changes. Contact me should the need ever arise. Until then." And he returned to the balcony so as to make his hasty departure.

 _I really need to learn to travel like that_ , Trianna thought to herself once Tenga was gone. _But until then, it_ will _be nice once these pupae metamorphose. Then I will simply fly wherever I need to go._

-:-:-:-


	77. Part II 23 Nefin's Prank

**23\. Nefin's Prank**

Seven weeks after setting sail, Nefin sat with his friends for breakfast. Will had already returned above deck after hastily finishing his meal, as he nearly always did. Hanna and Ajh made short trips from the galley to the small area just outside the galley door, where two tables made up the dining room. Var and Zadí sat beside one another at the table Nefin wasn't occupying. Brom and Brin were discussing their plans for that day's training drills in the chairs directly across from Nefin. And Keeta sat by herself opposite Var and Zadí, intently studying the sheaf of parchment in her hands and completely oblivious to everything else going on.

As Ajh made a brief appearance, bringing more food and a new pitcher of what he affectionately referred to as power potion, Var contentedly declared, "Chef, this breakfast was the best yet!"

"You say that every morning, cap'n," Ajh teasingly returned. "But thank you."

"I'll take more of that power potion, if I may," Var said, holding up his empty glass.

Ajh refilled it with the bright green liquid contained in his jug. He and Hanna made this drink every morning using dehydrated vegetable powders they had prepared in Ellesméra and Sílthrim, along with fresh sprouts that Ajh constantly grew with Hanna's magical assistance. She also helped him pulverize the sprouts so they were smooth, and they added some honey to the bitter concoction so everyone could choke it down. But Var was wholly supportive of the beverage, knowing that proper nutrition was essential in keeping everyone healthy during a long voyage at sea.

"If it keeps me from getting scurvy, I will gladly guzzle this delight every morning," Var firmly declared.

"Yes," Zadí agreed. "I wouldn't like you quite as much if your teeth were falling from rotten, swollen gums." She likewise drained her glass, grimacing slightly at the unpleasant aftertaste. "I'm glad you add honey, Ajh. I'm not sure I would be able to handle it otherwise."

Ajh laughed and reminded, "It tastes much better with fresh fruit, but we ran out weeks ago. I'm glad you can tolerate it."

"I do remember that," Zadí granted as Ajh cleared several dishes and turned back toward the galley.

When next he returned, Ajh asked, "Has anyone seen my bread pans? Hanna and I have the bread dough ready to rise in the pans, but I can't find them anywhere. They were right where I keep them when I left the galley last night. If we want bread for lunch, I need them back." He glanced around the small group.

Everyone made various signs of denial or confusion, whether by shaking their heads or shrugging. As Ajh's eyes stopped on him, Nefin couldn't remove the small smile that crept onto his face despite his best efforts.

Ajh pointedly raised his eyebrows. "Nefin?" he questioned, a note of accusation in his voice.

Nefin snickered. "Why don't you ask Keeta? She always knows where everything is."

Keeta didn't glance over when Nefin said her name, but Ajh was able to get her attention by directly addressing her. "Keeta, do you happen to know where the bread pans are?"

Without fully looking up, Keeta lifted one finger to her paper to keep her place and absently said, "The bread pans? Yes, I saw them behind the ladder leading down here. Why did you put them there, Ajh?"

Nefin busted up laughing, and a small smile twitched the corners of Ajh's mouth. Keeta finally glanced up at the sound of Nefin's laughter, her brow creased in bemusement.

"What's so funny?" she defensively demanded.

Nefin only shook his head, wiping his eyes as his laughing continued.

Ajh gave in and laughed. "Nefin, you can be so immature," he stated in a tone of pretended superiority.

"I couldn't help it," Nefin gasped. "Haven't any of the rest of you noticed that Keeta always knows where everything is? Just test her some time. Hide something in an obscure place and ask if she has seen it. I can virtually guarantee that nine times out of ten she will directly inform you where said lost item is located without having to think about it. Everyone came down that ladder for breakfast this morning, but no one noticed except Keeta."

Keeta huffed, "But maybe before you ask me, you should think to ask Nefin here, since he is obviously not above moving people's belongings around just to play a prank."

"Keeta," Nefin protested. "I think it's amazing. You're always noticing little details without even realizing. That's actually an impressive ability, one a tracker has to work hard to develop and hone."

Keeta blushed and looked back down at her long list. "Whatever you say, Nefin-elda."

Nefin laughed again. "I always know I'm on the right track when I can get you to use honorifics. Ajh, I'll go grab the bread pans. Sorry, my friend."

He returned about ten seconds later with the missing bread pans and handed them to Ajh. Before Ajh could disappear into the galley, Nefin heard a voice issuing forth out of his pocket. He glanced down in surprise, reaching for the enchanted scrying mirror he kept there as he recognized the voice of his fourteen-year-old younger sister Nina.

"Nefin!" Nina breathlessly began. "Is it too early there? The others kept telling me to wait and wait since they assumed you were far west of us. I wanted to scry sooner, but Blödhgarm insisted it could be dangerous. But I couldn't wait any longer, Nefin! Are you and Hanna all right? The very old elves here on the Isle have all started to age! Very, very quickly! And so have mother, father, and Aunt Arya. They think it has to do with using magic now that the Dragon Rider pact is gone. And I've been so worried—"

"Slow down, Nina," Nefin interrupted, struggling to follow everything his sister had just shared. "Hanna and I are just fine. But what was that you said about the elves aging?" All of Nefin's companions were paying close attention, and Ajh had returned to his side.

Hanna spoke up from his other side, "Nina, you look terrified! What's going on, sweetie?"

Nina began to cry. She did so for several moments before mustering the wherewithal to continue, "The elves are all getting old. We have also scryed King Däthedr in Ellesméra, and the same is happening there. Some of the oldest elves have already passed away. Magical effort seems only to speed the process. When they realized what was happening, the old elves here all stopped using magic. The Eldunarí are sustaining them, but now we have very limited contact with our parents on the tropical island. They will only allow us younger elves to even make the attempt. The magical strength we have in our youth seems unchanged, and we obviously aren't going to age really fast because we're still just children. But our parents can't work as quickly to build the ship because the elves can't help prepare the wood anymore. Mother had the baby, but it was much more difficult for her as a fifty-year-old woman than any of the other births, when her body seemed more like a twenty-year-old. Uncle Varhog was seriously injured about a month ago, and none of the elves could provide a proper magical healing for fear of the adverse effects, so he had to heal the regular way. Their efforts also slowed without his assistance."

"What happened to my father?" Var quietly asked Nina.

"He was attacked by a jungle cat that snuck into the hut for Elva's baby," Nina explained. "It severely clawed up his torso before he killed it. And your mother is expecting triplets. She is feeling quite ill and growing at an unprecedented rate. Brom, Zadí, your mother also experienced the acute effects of this aging dilemma. Your father is beside himself with worry. Oh, and the volcano on that island erupted. And there's a Shade ruling in Ilirea!" Nina concluded her jumbled account by again starting to weep.

The eight youth in the dining area were silent as they attempted to process this.

Zadí broke the silence. "My mother is dying?"

"No, I don't think so," Nina answered. "Well, she is aging now. I guess no one will be immortal anymore. Elves or Dragon Riders."

"Did mother have a boy or girl?" Hanna asked Nina.

"A boy," Nina shared. "And so did Elva. She named her son Mathias. Mother named our new brother Hanin, since none of the other boys are directly named after father and he got old so quickly . . ." Nina trailed off, her lip trembling.

"Nina, it will be all right," Nefin comforted. "The pull from Will's ring is getting stronger, and we are closer to a direct course than we yet have been on our trip. I'm sure Lena is doing her best to figure out how to reverse Tenga's curse. Once we find her, we'll try to set everything right. I'm sure father, mother, and Aunt Arya will recover."

"How are the youngsters doing?" Hanna then inquired.

"Not that well," Nina worriedly said. "Some of them have become really withdrawn and quiet. They can't understand why our parents haven't returned. I think they might believe they simply died, but then we scry them and the little ones get hopeful and confused and upset all at once. It's heartbreaking. Our parents are working as quickly as they can. I think they are nearly ready to set sail, but rainy season started some weeks back, which has hindered their efforts."

Nefin glanced around at his companions. "Does anyone have any more questions? We should probably do some planning."

"Do you have any other news from Ilirea?" Ajh asked. "How long has this Shade been in charge?"

"Um, I'm not sure," Nina uncertainly replied. "That was something the adults discussed with the elves in Ellesméra during that scrying session. I think it was quite soon after Tenga came here and kidnapped Lena. But people on the mainland are terrified. I don't think anyone really knows what happened to the royal family. The elves were considering marching out to help when they learned that the Caretakers were missing until the older ones all started getting old. Those who are a hundred or older are now about as capable as a hundred-year-old human or Urgal would be, so their fighting abilities really aren't that impressive. And they can't use magic like before unless they want to send themselves to their graves. It has been so scary!"

"I can imagine," Nefin sympathetically said. "It sounds scary. But thank you so much for contacting us to share this, Nina. We are so isolated from everything happening everywhere else. Knowing this will help us. We had better go now."

Nina bravely nodded. "Be careful, Nefin. I love you. I love you too, Hanna. We'll keep praying for you."

Nefin and Hanna bid their younger sister farewell, then Nefin slowly lowered the mirror.

"This is bad," Brom said, running one hand through his hair. "Elves dying. A Shade. Our parents still stranded. And we're stuck out here on the ocean. I wish there was more we could do to help."

"We're doing the most important thing," Will quietly said from the doorway. Everyone looked over in surprise. "I only came down a few minutes ago, wondering what was keeping everyone. But I heard enough. When we find Lena, we find Tenga, the Caretakers, and hopefully a solution to this whole mess. Is there anything you elves can do to speed our journey? By manipulating the wind or something?"

"We can try," Brom said. "We need to try. Let's get up there to the main deck and see what we can do. Brin, you keep helping everyone with their fighting practice. Then at least everyone will be occupied. Ajh, do you need any help down here?"

"I can take care of it," Ajh said. "There isn't much left to do. I'll be up when I'm done."

Brom nodded and turned to follow Will up the ladder. Everyone fell in line behind him, Nefin bringing up the rear. When Keeta was at his height on the ladder, Nefin asked, "Do you want more practice shooting at moving targets today?"

Keeta glanced over her shoulder at him. "Won't you be helping Brom?"

"I guess I will," Nefin realized. "Well, maybe I could still send the dummies into the air."

"I'll just practice with my axe, Nefin," Keeta said, smiling.

"I'd rather spend time with you," Nefin admitted. "Sorry if I embarrassed you earlier."

Keeta shrugged. "It doesn't matter. I can see how it was funny now that it's over. I guess I don't think much about things like that." She completed her ascent up the ladder, and Nefin quickly followed.

"I really do think it's impressive, Keeta."

"Thanks, Nefin."

They finished their climb to the main deck and went their separate ways. Keeta joined Brin, Var, and Zadí while Nefin made his way over to Brom and Hanna.

Brom explained what he believed would be the best method for increasing the strength of the wind, and the three of them began weaving the complex spell. They spent the rest of the morning until lunchtime thus engaged, and carried on after a break to eat.

-:-:-

When they were all clearly exhausted later that afternoon, Brom called for them to stop. Hanna wearily bowed her head.

From the helm Var called, "Whatever you did definitely helped. I would guess we traveled twice as far today as on our best day before. Don't you think, Will?"

"Without a doubt," Will agreed from the main deck. "But I don't know if we should have you do the same every day. You three look like you're ready to collapse."

"We are," Brom confirmed. "And I don't want to borrow energy from the stones we have. I feel like we need those to be stocked up for when we find Tenga."

"Brom," Nefin quietly said. "I'm not sure you were aware of this, but I have frequently seen that raven flying overhead during the past several weeks. I'm sure it's always the same one, and I'm starting to worry it might be a spy."

The bird began to veer away from the ship as if it had heard, but Nefin felt Brom magically reach out with his mind and seize control of the bird's motor control, forcing it to hover in one place.

"You're right, Nefin," Brom grimly stated. "And it works for the Shade, who knows of us thanks to him. And she has informed Tenga. I can't believe I didn't notice, but I have been careful not to extend my magical prying too far for fear of bringing undue attention to our group."

The bird abruptly dropped from the sky, and Hanna shuddered as she and Nefin realized that Brom had ended its life after probing its mind.

Brom clenched his hands. "Sorry," he softly said. "I hated doing that, but we don't need the Shade to have more information. Let's go eat. Then just relax and take a break. We need to recover."

-:-:-

Following the midafternoon meal, Nefin found Keeta playing a dice game by herself. The other youth were coupled off in their usual pairings—Brom and Brin, Var and Zadí, and Hanna and Ajh.

"May I play?" Nefin requested, stopping by the table.

Keeta looked up. "Sure." She patted the table next to her, and Nefin took a seat. "Good work today. Sounds like it helped." She handed Nefin a game card, pencil, and the dice so he could have a turn.

"I guess so," Nefin said, rolling the dice. "I hope so. I'm drained."

After his three rolls, all of the dice showed the same number, scoring him fifty points on his first turn. "Lucky," Keeta murmured.

Nefin grinned, passing the dice to her and recording his roll on the game card. "If you win, I'll take your dish duty tomorrow," he offered.

"What about if you win?" Keeta asked.

"Then I'll help you," Nefin hopefully suggested.

"So either way, you're doing more dishes? Doesn't seem fair. Your turn was today."

"But I want to help you, Keeta. I want to spend more time with you."

Keeta carefully regarded him. "Why, Nefin?"

Nefin leaned back in his chair, reaching for the dice and casually starting his next turn. "Because I like you."

Keeta rolled her eyes, smiling faintly. "What do you mean?"

"I think you know."

"But I don't want to guess."

Nefin frowned as his second turn netted him nothing useful. He jotted down his score and pushed the dice across the table. "You're my favorite person to be with. I like you in the way you always liked me. How else can I put it, Keeta?" _Unless I simply come right out and tell you I love you_ , Nefin mentally added. But he didn't think Keeta was ready for him to make such a confession.

Keeta now stared at the dice more intently than she needed to as she started her turn. She was silent as she kept the two sixes she rolled and grabbed the other three to roll again. She kept the two additional sixes from her second roll and tossed the fifth die one more time. It landed on five.

"Yes!" Keeta muttered. "The highest four of a kind. I love getting that roll." Finally she glanced over at Nefin. "I don't know what to say, Nefin."

"Then don't say anything. But I wanted you to know. And you didn't want to guess." He cheekily smiled as she pulled a petulant face. But he grew serious again as he started his next turn. "Keeta, I've been wanting to talk to you about what happened in Ellesméra."

"Why? You know I've already forgiven you, though it wasn't even your fault."

"But I never asked for forgiveness. Will you let me say the words? I think it somehow helps."

"You did," Keeta objected. "Right after."

"No," Nefin disagreed. "I apologized. But that's different from asking forgiveness. I can tell you sometimes think about it, Keeta. When we're together and I'm kneeling down. It's like that triggers the memory. I remember how painful it was for you."

"I don't blame you, Nefin," Keeta insisted. "It was Alanna's fault."

"Rhunön told King Däthedr so Alanna would be punished. I'm not sure you knew that."

"No," Keeta said, raising her eyebrows in surprise. "I didn't."

"I know you didn't want to make a big scene, and Däthedr didn't. But at least Alanna didn't get away clean. Keeta, I realize how it must have looked to you to stumble on such a scene. I just want you to know that I didn't want it. I didn't want her. I hated what I was doing as I was doing it, but I couldn't stop myself until I heard you. You saved me from what would have been the biggest regret of my life. Rhunön reminded me how much worse I would have felt had I followed Alanna's spell through to the end, had I shared that expression with someone I didn't love or desire."

Keeta was clutching the dice in her hand, but she didn't let them fall. Nefin waited in silence until Keeta at last whispered, "That was the hardest part. I couldn't imagine you doing that before you were married but you appeared so wholly bent on that objective. But at the same time, I could understand. Before I knew it was a spell, it wasn't hard for me to imagine you desiring Alanna like that. She's so gorgeous, and tall, and fast—"

"Hideous," Nefin interrupted. "She is ugly to me, Keeta. She _wanted_ you to see us like that. She _wanted_ to hurt you. No matter their outward appearance, a person that cruel and selfish can never be truly beautiful. Not like you."

Keeta still didn't look up at him. Nefin reached out and brushed her cheek. "Please, Keeta," he again requested. "Let me ask for forgiveness."

"If you think it will somehow help," Keeta relented.

He tilted her chin up and waited for her to meet his eyes. Once she had, Nefin gently asked, "Keeta, will you please forgive me for breaking your heart in Ellesméra?"

Nefin wasn't surprised that tears filled her eyes. She fought them for a moment by blinking rapidly before apparently giving up. They trailed down her cheeks, but her gaze remained steady as she said, "Yes, Nefin. I forgive you."

He removed his hand from her face and rested it over her clenched fist. "Thank you, Keeta. You're an amazing person. I'm honored to have you as a friend."

Keeta sniffed and wiped the tears from her cheeks. "It's good to have someone around who will begin blubbering every five minutes, isn't it? Shall we finish our game? I think I'm ahead."

Nefin smiled. "I'm not surprised. Numbers have always been your forte. Yes, let's finish." So they did, and Nefin was glad that Keeta consented to letting him help her with dish duty no matter the outcome of their game.

-:-:-:-

* * *

 **A/N:** It worked so well to spend a little time here with Nefin. You might have already guessed, but they're basically playing the dice game Yahtzee right there at the end. One of my favorite games. And if you're curious about the punishment Nefin mentions for Alanna, I actually added a little snippet to chapter 37 in Part One ("Rhunön's Assistant"). The reader who goes by SweetNoob PMed me wondering why Alanna's crime was never addressed when what she did was really no different from what Isaac attempted to do with Zadí. So, with his suggestion in mind, I added a small scene depicting that during my revisions.


	78. Part II 24 Crime Reversed

**A/N:** This chapter is probably the most disturbing I have ever written. It contains dark mature themes meant to juxtapose two of the villains and mess with your emotions. The crime I am referring to in the chapter title is rape, so please strongly consider skipping this chapter if you are a younger reader or someone who would have a problem reading about that. The last five paragraphs provide enough insight into the plot development that you could scroll down and read only those without missing anything significant.

* * *

 **24\. Crime Reversed**

 _Three hundred ninety-one . . . three hundred ninety-two . . . three hundred ninety-three. . . ._ Isaac was determined to make it to four hundred today. Prior to his months of imprisonment, he had never expected to perform hundreds of pushups in a row. But with little else to do, he had surprised himself.

The jailors no longer brought books. All they now delivered were even better meals than those they had initially served. Isaac couldn't understand the improvement in prison dining, nor the seemingly inexplicable connection between those changes and the increasing fear in the guards' eyes. And most troubling of all were the numerous screams of terror and agony that now filled the dungeon on a weekly basis.

 _Three hundred ninety-eight. . . . Three hundred ninety-nine. . . ._ Isaac paused at the top of his movement, straightened arms trembling, searching inside himself for the strength to finish. He had never been much for discipline or goal setting, but captivity had forced Isaac to reconsider certain things. If he ever made it out of here, he would be a different man.

He shakily lowered himself, every muscle of his arms and torso screaming in protest, then painstakingly pushed himself back up. _Four hund_ —

The door to his cell banged open without warning, and Isaac collapsed to his chest in surprise. Then, all exhaustion forgotten, he sprang to his feet and automatically backed up a few paces as a monstrous looking woman—at least Isaac _thought_ it was a woman—strode into his small room.

Blood red eyes cruelly flashed from a face of stretched, pasty skin. Maroon hair flowed like a tainted waterfall to her waist.

 _A Shade_! Isaac had only ever heard legends.

A ghastly grin only made her appearance more frightening. She was as tall as he, and she swept her devil eyes up his glistening torso, a repulsive look of admiration in them. Isaac realized his musculature would still appear more defined from his long exercise.

"Ma'am," Isaac stammered, swiping sweat from his forehead as it dripped into his eyes and stung them. He stopped his unconscious retreat when his bare back hit the cold stone wall behind him.

"Some manners," the Shade approved in a voice devoid of any emotion. "How refreshing. I am Trianna. And you are . . . ?"

Before he could answer, Isaac felt cold, claw-like fingers of consciousness pry into his mind. He flinched at the torture, sure the beast was being as harsh as she could.

"You think me beastly?" Trianna questioned, pulling the thought from his mind. "Isaac? How nice to meet you. And thank you for the compliment. You have no idea just how right you are."

Isaac clenched his hands into fists, keeping them rigidly by his sides as the Shade continued her ruthless probing. Unbidden, thoughts of his confrontation and trial with the Dragon Riders entered his mind. He remembered the part Urgal twin clenching his hands into fists to keep from punching Isaac. He remembered the one called Brom gently searching his mind for information about the girls he had attacked. And he felt grateful they had exhibited a self-control he had never had and which the Shade obviously wasn't going to exercise.

"Ah," Trianna knowingly observed. "I see you hate the Dragon Riders as much as I. Or is this a softening of your heart that I sense? They did have great self-control, didn't they? Oh yes, very admirable, the Dragon Riders. You might be glad to know that Dragon Riders, such as they were, no longer exist. My master, a very powerful magician named Tenga, saw to it that Alagaёsia will never be troubled by the bothersome Dragon Riders again. Are you not glad to hear this news, Isaac? Perhaps not, for they were the only ones who might have been capable of saving you from your fate. And yet, in a way, your fate will also ensure that they never recover, for my master means to kill them all off when the last piece of his puzzle falls into place. And you will be instrumental in guaranteeing that this final element successfully comes to pass."

Isaac stared at the Shade, too focused on the pain in his mind to make much sense of her words. She continued, "So why are you in here, my dear boy? Let me see. Oh, how naughty. How delightfully naughty. You raped several poor innocent girls? Hmm, what a wonderful sense of power and dominance that gave you. I can see why you would have repeated the offense. Now that I sense the high in your mind, I'm quite tempted to experience such an outcome myself. I do quite enjoy feeling powerful and dominating. I am able to accomplish such results fairly easily with my magical prowess, but I have never tried your method. What do you say to reliving this pleasure one last time before your imminent death?"

"No, thank you," Isaac quickly blurted, terrified of what the Shade was implying.

"No?" Trianna innocently echoed. "Well then, perhaps you will get a taste of your own medicine. For though you are strong, Isaac, you will be _powerless_ against me." The Shade smiled viciously as she snatched the line from his mind, the words he had spoken to Zadí right before forcing her into the tree and commencing his attack.

Isaac's body went rigid as the Shade seized control of his muscles through his mind. Using magic, she forced him onto the cot and tore off his pants. But she didn't restrain his mouth, and Isaac couldn't suppress the scream of horror that ripped out of him as she approached and lifted her robe.

Was this how the girls had always felt? Helpless, petrified? Violated?

Isaac thought of Sara as the Shade moved forward in her design, involving him in this activity against his will. He had never made love to a woman he loved, had never experienced the expression as it was meant to be enjoyed. He might have, had he respected Sara enough to marry her before forcing himself upon her. And all of the many times since had occurred either as he attacked a helpless young woman or in the arms of a whore.

Trianna compelled Isaac to look at her so he would see how much she was savoring his terror. With tears streaming out of his unblinking eyes, Isaac's shame increased as he realized that all of the girls he attacked had been through this exact experience of witnessing another person using their bodies in this sickening manner, all while feeling physical and emotional pain.

Aware of Isaac's mental turmoil, Trianna smiled triumphantly and used magic to carry on even longer. The true physical pain began as she required his body to function in a manner contrary to its design. Isaac's shrieks of misery grew louder and longer, for the Shade continued on and on, relishing his suffering.

When at last she ceased, Isaac lay trembling and moaning on his cot. The Shade roughly arose and disdainfully glanced down.

"I have heard rumors of the amazing abilities possessed by Urgal rams. It must only be possible because of their thick hides. Pathetic human man. Too bad we don't have any Urgal rams in the dungeons. But that was marvelous, Isaac. Thank you for treating me to such a singular privilege." She laughed maliciously as Isaac glared up at her.

"And the smell of fresh blood will be most enticing for this next phase of your punishment," the Shade offhandedly added.

Isaac felt an unfamiliar sense of nobility rise up inside. Yes, he deserved to die. After having his crime reversed on him, Isaac fully understood for the first time just how disgusting it was. And his only regret now was that he couldn't somehow make it up to those eight girls before he met his end. Especially Sara. He wished he could have at least learned whether he had fathered a child.

Isaac slowly sat up, then stood, attempting to maintain what little dignity he could in his naked, battered condition. "How will I die?" he calmly asked.

The Shade laughed in a way that chilled Isaac to the bone. "You will be eaten, dear boy," she informed with obvious pleasure. "Alive."

The door to his cell once again flew open. All feelings of moral uprightness swiftly fled, and Isaac cowered against the wall behind him as two new monsters stalked into his cell. Lidless black eyes gleamed beneath bald skulls. Disfiguring humps crowded the insect-like creatures' backs, and they approached on oddly jointed legs, chattering in a heart-freezing series of clicks and clacks.

Stark understanding descended upon Isaac's mind as the fiends closed in. The fine meals. The jailors' fear. The screams of agony and terror, which again tore from Isaac's throat without his conscious consent. Two Ra'zac were feeding on the prisoners in Ilirea's dungeons. And he was their next meal.

-:-:-:-


	79. Part II 25 Ajh's Antics

**25\. Ajh's Antics**

Nearly two and a half weeks after Nefin's little sister Nina scryed them, Ajh found himself in the galley—where else?—preparing food for lunch. His responsibility to oversee the meal management had been a resounding success thanks to all of Keeta's tireless work in planning and obtaining supplies. Everyone was still as healthy as they ever had been on the Isle, and no one had yet complained of being overly hungry.

Well, Var and Will good-naturedly joked about it, but they always had. Ajh didn't foresee that ever changing, so he merely continued bantering back and forth with them, knowing they were receiving adequate nourishment by their undiminished strength and muscle mass.

Hanna surprised Ajh by joining him earlier than anticipated.

"Hey there, sugar," Ajh cheerfully greeted. "I wasn't expecting you down here so soon."

Hanna smiled brightly at his easy endearment. "Brom let me come early," she explained. "Wait, that didn't sound quite right. Brom doesn't insist on giving me permission before I do anything, he simply noticed how tired I was and suggested I come get something to eat. Would the chef object to giving a starving girl a little snack this close to lunchtime?"

"Pfff!" Ajh scoffed. "I don't think I'll ever say no to anything you ask of me, sugar. And besides, there's nothing like seeing a slender lass tucking in like you do. I always hated it when girls in Ilirea would pick at their food out of some twisted sense of propriety. I love a girl with a healthy appetite. I can prepare you your own special meal. Or I have a fresh batch of your concentrated snack bars all baked up."

"I'll eat everything you put in front of me, Chef. I truly am ravenous." Hanna accepted the snack bar he handed her and took a huge bite as he began assembling a sandwich for her.

"So Brom is keeping you busy up there?"

"Mm, yeth," Hanna mumbled around her second bite. Ajh grinned. Hanna also smiled, swallowing and gulping down a big drink of water so she could speak clearly. "Ajh, those are so good. I'll never get tired of them, no matter how many I eat. Anyway, yes. Brom keeps me and Nefin really busy. We spend a few hours every day harnessing the wind. But before we even started that, Brom had me practicing a different magical effort. He tries to cast innocuous spells on all of you others while I use my mind to perceive and counter them."

Ajh raised his eyebrows. "Really? So is Brom casting some sort of spell on me right now?"

Hanna's eyes glittered mischievously as she said, "Yep. He's trying to make you act like a monkey. But I'm doing an amazing job of preventing him. I've never met any animal that could cook like this."

Ajh pulled a concerned face as he began twitching in a jerky manner. Then he started making small squeaking noises.

Hanna shook her head, fighting her humor. "Cut it out, Ajh."

"Oh no!" Ajh cried, hopping around, bending his arms, and making scratching motions with his fingers near his armpits. "Hanna, help! Brom's spell is taking over!"

Hanna started giggling. "Ajh, you're such a clown. Stop it!"

Ajh crouched down, scuttling around in a stooped position and making loud hooting and screeching calls. "I can't control myself, Hanna! You need to do better than that!"

Hanna had dissolved into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. She slid to the floor against the lower cabinets, clutching her belly. Ajh continued his charade long enough to scamper to her side. Then he sat down next to Hanna and laughed along with her.

"Sorry, sugar. But you set yourself up for that one. I couldn't resist."

Hanna nodded as she continued to giggle in sporadic bursts. "I know," she gulped. "That's why I said it. I knew you would do something like that, and I needed a good belly laugh. No one can make me laugh as hard as you can, Ajh."

"Why thank ya!" Ajh cried. "I consider it my most valuable talent. There isn't a more beautiful sound in this world than your laugh. I'm glad I can invite you to share it so often."

Hanna smiled, leaning her cheek against Ajh's shoulder. "So charming," she murmured. "Well, what can I do to help?"

"First you need to finish your snack and this sandwich. Then I'll think of a job."

"Oh, and Keeta wanted me to tell you that after lunch we're deviating from our usual routine for a little grooming session. She said the boys are all looking too shaggy. Apparently you all need a good trim."

Ajh thoughtfully rubbed his goatee. "What do you think of my attempt at facial hair? Did I succeed?"

"At what?" Hanna teased. "Looking scruffy? Yes. Being a rebel? Maybe slightly."

Ajh chuckled. "Being the handsomest boy you know?"

"Yep," Hanna airily confirmed. "But you already were, so no change there."

Ajh smiled, taking her hand. "Thank you, sugar," he softly said, lightly kissing the back of her hand. "And you are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. Nothing will ever change that."

Hanna blushed, smiling shyly. "Thanks, Chef. Now I'll finish this food so we can have lunch ready on time. Brom and Nefin—actually everyone up there is really hungry. Brom and Brin make sure we rarely have an idle moment. But I guess it's important that we all stay sharp."

-:-:-

After everyone had eaten and cleaned up the meal, they made their way to the main deck. There Keeta had two stools set out. She stood between them, looking business-like and practical.

"All of you men are in need of a haircut," Keeta bluntly began. "I'm surprised that Brom and Nefin haven't simply kept up their own. Maybe Ajh's careless example set a bad precedent, but we can do something about the situation, so we will."

Nefin ran his hands through his shaggy straight hair, which was usually short enough to stand in tousled spikes on his head. "Most elves have long hair," he defended. "Are you saying you don't like the way it looks?"

Keeta sighed. "Don't start, Nefin-elda. We can't look like a group of vagabonds. If you won't do it yourself, Hanna has offered her services."

"I always had Hanna do it before," Nefin surrendered with a laugh. "If you find me handsomer with short hair, I'll gladly consent to a trim."

Keeta rolled her eyes, smiling slightly and shaking her head.

"It was nice not to worry about it for a few weeks," Brom admitted, likewise running a hand through his curls.

"But yours actually looks good," Brin stated. Brom raised his eyebrows. "Because of the curls," Brin hastily added. "They give it a purpose so you don't look as shaggy as Nefin . . ." She awkwardly trailed off before heatedly finishing, "Stop acting so gratified, Brom. You already know I think you're handsome."

"But I didn't know you liked my hair," Brom mildly commented. "You might like to know that I _love_ yours. Maybe you already did. I hope you won't also be getting a haircut."

Brin shrugged. "If Hanna's up for it, I wouldn't turn down a little trim. But nothing drastic."

"Good," Brom firmly said before turning his attention back to Keeta.

Keeta looked at Ajh. "Well, Chef. What about you? Have you satisfied your curiosity on the facial hair front?"

"Nope," Ajh denied. "Just getting started. Only trying to please a certain lady in question. But if you think I need a haircut, I willingly submit. And I promise the goatee will go if any of you ever finds a hair in your food."

Keeta laughed. "Fair enough. Var, Will, you two don't get special exemption. Will's hair is now as long as Var's always was. Captain, yours is . . . uh, a little unkempt."

Zadí teasingly nodded, which Var noticed. "Like Ajh said, anything to please the ladies," he said with a laugh. "Trim away."

Zadí then requested, "Hanna, after you trim mine, will you curl it in ringlets?"

"Of course!" Hanna gushed. "You know how I love playing with hair. But why the special request?"

"For my birthday tomorrow," Zadí casually remarked, glancing at Var from the corner of her eye. Var pretended he didn't notice, though Ajh clearly saw that he had.

"Oh yes!" Hanna cried. "I would love to!"

So the haircuts began. The boys, gentlemen through and through, allowed the ladies to go first. Since Hanna apparently truly _did_ love playing with hair and therefore took quite a while having fun with the girls, the men busied themselves helping Will and Var with the ship. Evenly matched in height and strength, the twins worked together on a few projects while Nefin took over at the helm.

Ajh laughed as his best friend planted his feet in a wide stance, turned at an angle to the wheel, puffed out his chest, and threw back his shoulders all in exaggerated preparation to begin belting out what ended up being an old sailor's song about a crew that discovered a lovely golden-haired mermaid dwelling in the ocean. The stunning sea maiden taunted and teased the mesmerized sailors above her watery lair, luring them all to their untimely deaths with promises of an enchanted life under the sea.

This Nefin sang while cheekily regarding Keeta, the only golden-haired girl on the ship. She did her best to ignore his playful joking, though his singing voice was as breathtaking as all elves'. The twins joined Nefin during the chorus, except that both of them automatically inserted the words "raven-haired" in place of "golden-haired" wherever it happened to appear.

By the end of the song, everyone was laughing. "I didn't know you knew that song!" Var exclaimed. "Where did you learn it?"

"From my mother," Nefin answered with a shrug. "I guess the elves in Sílthrim know some of the old sailing songs too."

"That makes sense," Var allowed. "Will and I also learned from the elves as they helped us build the ship. But they always sang raven-haired."

"We each sang what was most appropriate for us personally," Nefin dismissed, nonchalantly glancing toward Keeta, and Var nodded.

Just then Hanna called, "That's enough, you silly boys. Your turns. Who's going first?"

-:-:-

That night, after dinner was over and the galley cleaned up, Ajh returned to his domain to begin a special project. Given the later hour, he was once again surprised by an unexpected visitor.

"Hey, Chef," Var's deep voice greeted from the doorway. "Any chance I can sneak a late night snack? I'm up for first night shift and am already hungry."

"Sure thing, cap'n," Ajh consented. "Help yourself to whatever you can find."

Var entered the galley and began rummaging through the cupboards after grabbing the remains of one of that day's bread loaves. "What are you working on?" he asked as he found some nut butter and honey to spread on the bread.

"Making a cake," Ajh replied. "I had forgotten about Zadí's birthday tomorrow until she mentioned it this afternoon. Do you happen to know if she likes vanilla or chocolate frosting better?"

Var apologetically informed, "Sorry, Chef. I should, but I don't. I think she has already gone to sleep tonight, but I'll ask her tomorrow if I see her before you. Can it wait until then?"

"Sure. I'll just whip up the frosting once I know and slap it on the cake. It has to cool anyway. I happened to notice that she gave you a pointed stare earlier when she brought up her birthday. Any particular reason?"

"Yes," Var affirmed. "You'll see tomorrow." After completing the creation of his sandwich, Var grabbed a handful of dried apple slices and nuts, depositing each one after the other into a pouch hanging around his waist.

"Thanks for this," he earnestly said. "It helps me stay awake when I have something to munch on. I'd better get above board. See you in the morning."

"Good night," Ajh said, continuing to work on the birthday cake as Var left the galley.

-:-:-:-

* * *

 **A/N:** It didn't even occur to me as I first started writing the scene with Ajh and Hanna that some people might interpret her statement that Brom was trying to make Ajh act like a monkey as offensive or racist. Then I remembered and my husband confirmed that referring to a dark-skinned person in such a manner truly would be quite insulting, at least in parts of the United States. So please forgive me if I inadvertently offended you. Let's just pretend that the racial slurs of our day don't exist in Alagaёsia, shall we? I tried changing monkey to primate, and it just didn't work as well. My husband suggested I leave the scene out, but I dearly wanted to include it as timely comic relief and I have obviously never thought of Ajh in a negative light, nor would Hanna be implying something racist.


	80. Part II 26 Birthday Request

**A/N:** Since this story is rated T, I thought I had best warn you that this chapter contains a mature love scene, which starts after the final -:-:- symbol. I tried to make it very tame, but I know younger readers or people with different interpretations of "tame" might be reading this, so I'm warning you right now to skip that if you don't want to read it. I'm not planning on changing the rating of the whole story for the relatively few chapters that will contain such scenes.

* * *

 **26\. Birthday Request**

On the morning of her seventeenth birthday, Zadí awoke early. She hadn't slept well the night before due to her excitement that this day was _finally_ here. Var wouldn't forget, would he? There was no way he would forget his promise to her.

Impatient to find out, Zadí slipped out of bed and quickly dressed. Even Nefin was still asleep in his hammock as she passed the boys' end of the berth cabin on her way up to the main deck. She only stopped in the privy to relieve herself and brush her teeth before continuing up and out to the deck where she knew she would find Var, no matter how early it was. She wasn't sure how they managed, but both he and Will went to bed later than any of them and were up before as well, to make sure the ship stayed true to its course.

She saw his tall form above her and toward the stern on the quarter deck. He was at the wheel, for captaining the ship had fallen to him. Will had always been more interested in the construction and operation of the ship, with regards to adjusting the rigging and trimming the sails. Var had studied navigation and understanding the winds, and they had each effortlessly fallen into their roles, communicating in their ship jargon that the rest of them were finally starting to understand. Var had told her that Will preferred staying active, obeying commands as Var called them out. If Will tried to stand still at the wheel, he thought he would surely go mad from worrying over Lena.

Zadí knew Var immediately saw her as she emerged. She smiled at the same time he did. The wind whipped her hair in front of her face, and she hugged her arms across her chest against the chill. When she reached him, she ducked under one of his arms and stood up between them, wrapping her arms around his waist to share his warmth.

"Good morning, sweetie," she greeted.

"Morning, beautiful," Var returned. "Do you always look this breathtaking right after you wake up in the morning?"

Zadí lifted her chin, resting it on his chest so she could look up at him. "I didn't do anything except brush my teeth, so if I look beautiful to you, I guess the answer is yes."

"Look beautiful to me?" he disbelievingly echoed. "You're gorgeous, Zadí."

She smiled. "Thank you, Var."

"Happy birthday, Izz," he continued, also smiling. "I'm glad you came up so early. I have a question to ask you."

Her smile widened. "I knew you wouldn't forget."

"Forget?" Var scoffed. "How could I forget that I need to ask if you want chocolate or vanilla frosting for your birthday cake? Chef needs to know."

Zadí giggled. "Vanilla. But I'm sure I'll see Ajh before you. Is that all, then? I might go back to bed and snuggle in my blankets. It's cold out here!"

Var encircled her with one of his arms and rested his forehead against hers. "No, sweetie. There's more." He briefly released her to reach into his pocket. Zadí knew he would be holding her ring when he withdrew his hand, and she was right.

"I always keep it with me, though you already knew that," Var explained as she looked at his hand then back at his face. "Marry me, Izzie?"

"Yes, Var," she said, letting the tears that filled her eyes spill onto her cheeks. "I will marry you. And I have a birthday request."

"Oh?" His eyes shimmered more than usual as they also brimmed with tears. "Your wish is my command."

"Marry me today," Zadí entreated. "Please, Var. After everything that has happened, I couldn't bear it if something bad separated us and I never knew the joy of being your wife. Please."

"You know I want to do that," he softly said.

"But what? Why do you look hesitant?"

"I'm not sure I could do that to Will. He . . . it might be too hard—"

"Do it _for_ me, Var," Will's deep voice said from behind Zadí. Var looked up. They had both missed his approach, as engrossed as they were in one another. "If you don't, I might saw off your horns tonight. What Zadí said is true. And you'll regret it as much as I do if you wait and then find yourself wondering if you will ever get to love the woman you love as your wife. I'm sure Brom would perform the ceremony, such as it might be."

"I will," Brom agreed from the railing, having just joined them. "No one in love and as sure as you two should wait."

Zadí beamed at them before turning back to Var. "Well, can we _now_?"

"Why not?" he gallantly relented.

"Good!" Zadí nearly squealed, stretching up to kiss his jaw. "I'll go wake the others."

She began to pull away, but Var held her in place. "Wait, you mean _right now_?"

"Of course! I'm cold! And I'd much rather snuggle with you to warm up than in my boring old blankets!"

Var laughed in spite of himself. "Never expected you to be more eager than I am," he muttered, glancing up in time to notice Will and Brom's looks of envy. "Are you two sure? It really doesn't seem fair."

"Yes," Will firmly said, and Brom nodded in the same way. Zadí grabbed Brom's hand, pulling him along with her as she returned below deck to wake the others.

-:-:-

"But what about the ship?" Var asked Will once they had disappeared.

"I'll take care of it," Will said. "And if you happen to rumble or roar like father, I'll pretend it's the wind. Or me and that I'm with Lena. The others can just take their time with breakfast. When they come up, I'll send them for'ard."

"Will," Var attempted to protest, but Will cut him off.

"Seriously, Var," Will insisted. "Don't you dare try to apologize one more time. If our roles were reversed, you know you would be doing exactly the same thing. We don't know what our futures hold or how long any of us will be alive. If you were dead tomorrow, wouldn't you have wanted one day like this with Zadí?"

Var solemnly nodded.

"Then enjoy it," Will said. "If you think about me for even a split second, I'll pound you. And don't come out of there the rest of the day. We'll provide room service. Don't want your lady getting cold." A ghost of a smile crossed his lips.

"No," Var agreed, his smile more sincere. "Can't let that happen. But I'm actually a little nervous."

Will jerked his head down. "Just remember what father said. Zadí will be fine. Take good mental notes. I'll need your expertise when we find Lena."

Var's smile faded. Will as he once was had taken a leave of absence. This man in front of him, his best friend, was completely different. He was grim and serious all the time, barely ever smiling anymore. But Var understood perfectly. If Zadí had been kidnapped, he too would have been gripped with an insane and feverish determination to reach her at all costs.

Var reached out and drew Will into a one-armed embrace. "We'll find her, brother."

"Yes," Will echoed, fingering his blue ring. "Yes, we'll find her."

-:-:-

Zadí reappeared wearing a beautiful ivory gown, which Var immediately recognized from the many times she had worn it to dance in. It was her mother's wedding gown. She smiled brightly, her fair skin warm and glowing next to the pale material.

"I asked my mother if I could wear her wedding gown to get married in, and she just gave it to me. I made sure to pack it, hoping this might happen while we were gone."

Var put his arms around her while they waited for their sleepy friends to make their way out onto the main deck. "You look gorgeous, Izz. We'll have to do some dancing." Zadí smiled her approval with her cheek pressed against him.

The ceremony, such as it was, was brief and tender. The nine friends huddled together in the relentless wind, straining to hear Brom's soft-spoken voice over the noise. After the two being joined as man and wife exchanged a handful of sweet, loving words, Brom invoked his authority as an erstwhile Dragon Rider to pronounce them a married couple, inviting Var to kiss his new bride.

Var slipped Zadí's wedding band onto the correct finger and gently kissed her lips. Then Zadí slid the ring she had made for him onto the third finger of his left hand. They hugged all of their friends, who all extended their warmest congratulations. Zadí grasped Var's hand, gazing up at him with her green eyes dancing and her fair skin flushed from the wind.

"Come, husband," she said with mock formality, her eyes continuing their mesmerizing dance. Then she nearly blinded him with the pure elation of her smile and began pulling him toward the captain's cabin.

Zadí called back, "Vanilla, Ajh! But I'm sure what I'm about to taste will be sweeter than any concoction you can come up with, no matter how tantalizing. Sorry, but that's just how it is." She laughed breezily, turning back toward her destination.

As Zadí tugged him away, Var glanced back over his shoulder, a dazed smile on his face. Then he followed his new wife into the cabin and shut the door behind them.

-:-:-

Var leaned his back against the door, breathing deeply to clear his head while Zadí made short work of closing the blinds. She returned to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. "We get to have a wedding morning," she joyfully teased.

"So it seems," Var agreed.

"Why, Varhog! Please don't tell me you're nervous!"

Var jumped slightly to hear himself called by his full name. Then he laughed tensely at his reaction. "I guess you could say that," he admitted.

Zadí turned her face so her nose was pressing straight into his chest and inhaled deeply. "Why, sweetheart?" she softly asked, all teasing gone. "You want to do this, right?"

"Want . . . ?" Var incredulously stuttered. " _Want_ to do this?" He laughed once, shortly, then said, "Yes, I _want_ to do this. That's the understatement of the century. But I _don't_ want to hurt you, Izz. You're so petite. I'm . . . a big man."

Zadí mischievously looked up from ten inches below him, running her hands up his broad chest and down his muscular arms. "You? A big man? I find that hard to believe." She giggled, and it relieved some of his anxiety.

"What I find amusing is how men are always so concerned about how _big_ they are in the area that seems to matter most to them," Zadí went on. "From what little I know of it, it's something of an ongoing competition. And yet you all seem to forget that the corresponding female parts are designed to grow large enough for a baby to pass through. With that firmly in mind, your impressive male abilities seem to shrink a bit in comparison, wouldn't you say?"

Var nodded somewhat sheepishly.

"Var, I'll be fine. I know you will be gentle. I have checked my own body too many times to count. My mother taught me all about the changes that take place during the cycle of female fertility. I'm meant to stretch and open there when I relax. And I'm only petite compared to you. Yes, I'm slender, but I'm also nearly six feet tall. I'm probably fully grown and definitely fully mature. I'm sure a little kissing—in the right places—will warm me right up." Her smile became more coquettish, the dance of her eyes intoxicating under her partially-lowered lashes.

"Yes, definitely fully mature," Var repeated, a growing hunger replacing his nervous concern. "But I know I'm bigger than two or even three of your fingers, Izz. Will you start by being on top so you can be in control?"

She inclined her head in affected gravity, giving the part of him they were talking about a sly glance where it was becoming more noticeable as she started pulling him toward the bed.

"But not bigger than a baby, Var. And that's my point. Women my age have borne children, so I'm not worried. Not with you as my husband."

Var sat on the edge of the bed, and Zadí sat right down in his lap, _astride_ his lap. His head began to spin as she languidly slid her arms around his neck, running her fingers through his hair, around his horns, along his face.

She flirtatiously cocked her head to one side and asked, "Would you be so good as to help me out of my dress, kind sir?"

Var felt like he was drowning in her eyes as he attempted to _almost_ nod and raised his large, clumsy, trembling hands to the front of her dress. He began fumbling with the laces while still looking at Zadí's face. When she laughed at him, Var realized he would need to focus on his task, so he dropped his eyes to his fingers and managed to begin fulfilling her request.

How did he get to this moment—about to make love with the girl he adored—before Will? Before Brom? Var had fancied Zadí since he was fourteen and loved her since he was sixteen. And yet, only six months ago, Zadí would have been hard-pressed to give him so much as the time of day. She had only begrudgingly put up with his endless teasing and hopeful overtures. Now she was sitting in his lap—pressing herself against him with her legs around him—and asking him to undress her. And her eyes. _How_ could they look like that?

 _Get it together, Var,_ he demanded of himself. _She's your wife now._ Wife. _You have wanted this for years. Now she's just as eager as you. Just be careful. Gentle._

With the laces loosened, Var trailed his fingers up to push the dress off her shoulders. He felt Zadí shiver, though she was now in her supportive sleeveless undershirt and not completely bare.

Var stared at her body, sweeping her hair behind her shoulders so he could see more of her neck, collarbone, upper chest area, shoulders, and arms. More than ever before, except for that once. And unbidden, the ugly image of Isaac pressing himself against her, forcing her into the tree with her hands pinned above her head, filled Var's mind like a blight. Var saw Zadí crumple to the ground as he wrenched the disgusting man away from her. He remembered gently taking her in his arms, healing the cut on her lip, feeling enraged that someone had hurt his Zadí. And he now recalled the few moments it had taken him to mend her torn shirt, how perfectly soft and feminine she was.

Var lifted his eyes back to her face, placing one hand on her cheek. Only then did he realize that Zadí had returned the favor for him by unlacing his shirt. She was patiently waiting for him to pull it off. He quickly did so. Now Var was also in his sleeveless undershirt.

Zadí smiled her dazzling, mind-scattering smile and slipped her arms around his neck, pulling her body against his, pressing her hips into him. In his ear she whispered, "I love you so much, Var. I'm so excited to do this with you."

Var's breath caught. He was smelling her hair and stroking her back, but now he moved his hands to her waist and slid his fingers under the hem of her shirt. "May I?"

Zadí pulled back, slowly nodding. She lifted her arms straight up and kept her eyes on his. "Please," she invited.

So Var did, also watching her eyes until the shirt covered her face as he removed it over her head. He glanced down and stopped breathing again. She was so perfect.

"Izz, you're beautiful," he managed to say, dropping her shirt on the floor.

But when he looked back at her face, his heart skipped a beat. Her eyes no longer looked trusting and inviting. They were wild and panic-stricken. She had never lowered her arms. They were rigidly above her head as if being forced to stay there.

"No," Zadí moaned. "Var, help me!"

"Zadí! What's wrong, sweetie?"

"I can remember," she gasped, squeezing her eyes shut. Tears leaked from the corners. "Remember _him._ But I don't want to!" She frantically shook her head, repeating, "Help me!"

"How, Izzie?" Var begged. "I'll do anything."

"It feels like I can't lower my arms," Zadí sobbed. "And I don't want to open my eyes. Like I didn't then, so he wouldn't see how afraid I was, how helpless I felt."

"Zadí," Var soothed. "It's Var, sweetie. Your husband. I would never hurt you. Open your eyes so you can see me." He raised his hands to her shoulders, preparing himself for her to flinch at his touch, trapped as she was in this awful memory. She did, but Var persisted, running his hands up to her elbows and bending them slightly. He continued up to her hands, placing his thumbs in her palms.

Her hands—already cold from the chill outside—were even colder now and stiff from reduced blood flow. Var rubbed his fingers over the backs of her hands, not forcing them down—though he could have—but gently inviting.

Something told Var to start singing to Zadí, so he did. Her arms slowly lowered, but her eyes remained tightly closed. That same something—intuition, maybe—told him to remove his own shirt, which instinct he also obeyed.

Enfolding her in his arms felt the most natural thing in the world. Their bare chests belonged together like this, and it was the most heavenly sensation Var had ever experienced. He scooted back on the bed, reaching behind himself to stack up a few pillows and reclining with Zadí on top of him. He moved her hands so they were resting on his chest between them where they would get warm. He kept singing, stroking her long, silky hair and warm, silky skin.

When his song was finished, Zadí's trembling had ceased and the tension was gone from her body. Var could feel her tears wetting his chest. He said nothing, waiting for her to speak when she was ready.

At length she did. "I'm sorry, Var. I was so worried I might freeze up like that after what happened in Ilirea. Everything was so perfect, and I thought I would be fine until my arms were up. And then the horrible memory just rushed back."

"I remembered too," Var said. "You never need to apologize for that Zadí. What you went through was traumatizing. We'll wait until you're ready. All the way ready. And it doesn't have to be in a few minutes or later today or later next week. Just whenever. Holding you like this is a dream come true. Did you know that?"

"Yes, it feels amazing." She slid her warm hands out from between them and forced them behind his back. "You warmed me right up, just like I hoped."

"Part Urgal blood comes in handy sometimes."

Zadí laughed. "But you don't seem to have the same wiry bristles."

"I guess I can thank my mother. Softer chest hair is nice. Not that she has any."

"Nice indeed," Zadí agreed, giggling again. "I had seen you without a shirt on before that day, but it was the first time the sight affected me like it did. Maybe because I finally knew I loved you. I guess your strength is more thanks to your father."

"Most likely. It seems to have stayed for the most part, even without a bond to a dragon."

Zadí raised her head to look at his face. "How are you doing with that, Var? Without Blackfire? Any better?"

Var shrugged. "It still feels like a big part of me is missing. Empty. Dead. It helps some to know that she's alive, but it hurts more than I can possibly explain to know she doesn't remember me. I'm sure you understand it better than most who have never experienced it, but it might still be hard. The bond is so intimate. Always knowing one another's minds, thoughts, feelings. Which is sometimes really irritating, but mostly reassuring, like you know you have a big, powerful friend always watching your back. I hope whatever Tenga did can be undone and that she'll remember again. I want to share you, this, with her. I love you, Zadí. More and in ways I could never love Blackfire, but she is another of my best friends."

Zadí reached up and stroked his cheek. "I hope this will somehow help fill the emptiness."

Var smiled. "I'm sure it will be very filling."

"More for me than you, I daresay," Zadí quipped with a silly snicker.

Var shook his head in amusement. "This is crazy, Izz. A second ago I was thinking about how fast this all changed, how unlikely it is that I'm married first out of me, Will, and Brom. But I'm so grateful."

"Me too."

"Do we need to be careful about you getting pregnant?" Var asked. "I'm not sure how you feel about that given our current circumstances. You finally seem to be over the seasickness."

Zadí smiled ruefully. "True. I think I would be fine. I don't want to prevent it. I want to have as many experiences as I can with you in the time available to us. But I've always wondered what you were thinking when you were fixing my shirt that day in Ilirea. When you could see my naked chest and abdomen."

"Shall I tell you?" Var offered, continuing his long exploration of her back and hair. His newfound knowledge in this area had only left him anxious for more.

"But of course," she lightly replied.

He lifted his head so he could gently kiss her. "At the time, I tried really hard not to notice, tried to focus on my spell. But I was going crazy inside, Izz. I would never do what that miscreant did to you, but I'm still a male and a flawless female body has the same effect on all of us. Since then, that indelible image in my mind has been the focus of almost all of my dreams, night or day."

Zadí smiled as she pushed herself all the way up, moving her knees to either side of his waist. "Let them be dreams no longer, my husband," she said in the same tone of pretended formality she had used right after their marriage ceremony. She grabbed his wrists, lifting his hands to her abdomen from where he had rested them on her thighs.

"Touch me," she then whispered, her eyes once again wide and trusting. And so vulnerable.

Var did touch her. And how she reacted—in the way she welcomed it, by the way she sounded—lit him up again. Not only that, but _she_ touched _him_ , and every look in her eyes sent this unmistakable message, _Your body is beautiful, Var. And I_ love _it._

"Izz," he finally panted. "We need to stop unless we can continue. I'm going crazy again. Only so much worse."

"Good," Zadí declared with a triumphant smile. "Then let's continue." And so they did.

-:-:-:-


	81. Part II 27 Love Her

**27\. Love Her**

Brom returned to the bow of the main deck after a very long and leisurely breakfast. Will impassively stood at the helm behind him, staring off into the cloudy gray distance with a brooding look on his face.

Brom thought he understood to a certain extent. But not completely. For the girl Brom loved was safe on this ship with him. If Brin had been taken, Brom knew he would be just as desperate as Will, an overwound watch ready to burst in a hundred directions.

Brom gripped the railing in front of him, trying hard not to think about Var and Zadí. But that was all he _could_ think about, of course. He was sure Var was probably as surprised as any of them that he ended up married first, though that didn't make it any easier.

Brom had promised Brin he would never pressure her, and he hadn't. But he could see when he looked at Brin that she loved him. Almost all of her now, not just the crazy about Brom part of her. So why wasn't she ready? Brom thought he would go insane if something happened to them on this journey of so many unknowns and he had never loved Brin as his wife. When love could get so strong it threatened to devour you from inside, it was no wonder there had to be an outlet like intimate love.

Growing up with parents like his, Brom had a firm belief that such an expression should be reserved for marriage. But if he knew he would meet his death the next day, Brom was sure he would share his love with Brin in this way if she would let him. In his mind he had been married to her since the last day of the Urgal Youth Camp when she had first confessed that part of her liked him.

He was so engrossed by his thoughts that he missed Brin's silent approach. Not until she was standing by his side did he realize she was there.

 _Getting soft, Brom_ , he rebuked himself for his careless disregard to his surroundings.

"Hi, Brom," Brin softly greeted.

Brom stared at his white-knuckled hands on the railing, guessing his face looked quite a sight. He decided not to glance over at her. She might be alarmed.

"Brin," he acknowledged through gritted teeth.

"Is everything all right?"

"No, Brin," Brom shortly said. "But I don't think you're the one I should be talking to about my current troubles."

"I can go," she offered.

"No," Brom quickly denied. He took a deep breath to steady himself, still not looking up. "Sorry if I sounded rude, Brin. But you can stay. I mean, please stay if you would like. I always enjoy your company." _And would enjoy it so much more if we could be past this already. Be husband and wife, like I so desperately want,_ he mentally added. _But you promised not to pressure her, Brom. Keep your word. She's so close, so don't push her away now._

He knew that Brin smiled by the way her next words sounded. "I like it when you're honest, Brom. Instead of trying to be perfectly polite and proper all the time."

"Brin, you have no idea how tempted I am to take you in my arms and make love to you," Brom muttered. "With all of the longing I've kept bottled up for so many years, no matter who is watching or what would come of it. I love you, Brin, and I'm starting to feel like I'm going to explode." He exhaled bitterly. "How's that for honest?"

"Good," she slowly said, sounding surprised. Brom still hadn't turned toward her and knew she was wondering why.

"That's why, Brin," he explained to his hands. "Why I haven't looked up. Because my eyes and whole face are full of my desire for you and I know it would scare you. I know you're closer but not quite ready yet. And it's fine. I'll keep waiting. Eventually I'll get this under control again. It just boiled to the surface with the unexpected wedding this morning." As a start to glancing at her, Brom looked out over the ocean.

"We can fight," Brin suggested.

"Why not?" Brom dryly replied. "Something to do with you where I occasionally get to touch you. If I'm on my game and lucky."

"You're getting better, Brom," Brin reminded him. "At trapping me. You've almost learned how to cut off all of my escape routes."

"Yes, but you just keep getting better and better with your technique, form, and footwork," Brom countered. "Which makes my objective all the more challenging."

"I'm glad you like to test me. In fact, that first day of the Youth Camp where I issued the unintentional challenge that I would consider any male who could defeat me as a potential romantic interest, I immediately thought, 'If anyone could do it, it would be Brom. And I hope he does so I can get better with a sword.'"

Brom finally met her gaze and smiled. "You really thought that?" he skeptically asked.

"Promise," she solemnly said, though her eyes sparkled teasingly.

Brom's small smile widened into a grin. He turned around, firmly folding his arms across his chest—to keep them on his body and not inching towards hers, where they wanted to be—and casually leaning against the rail behind him. "Want to know what _I_ thought that day?" he temptingly invited, hoping to make her laugh. He succeeded.

Brin laughed in delight. "Yes, please," she eagerly accepted.

" _I_ thought, 'Oops. Brin just made the biggest mistake of her life. One that's going to end with me defeating her. Then she'll have to begin considering me as a potential romantic interest. And given enough time—say a hundred years or so, if I'm lucky—that _might_ lead to becoming her beau.'"

Brin's laugh again filled the air, and Brom chuckled softly. "I felt you glance over at me. It was such a good feeling, especially since that ram wouldn't leave you alone. Whatever you were thinking, I knew for a second it was of me."

Brin surprised him—dumbfounded him—when she quickly stepped to him and wrapped her arms around him.

"Hug me," she demanded in mild exasperation when Brom's arms stayed frozen between them. So he uncrossed them and instantly complied, feeling a warmth blossom in his heart and rapidly spread through his whole torso and body. She turned her face down, resting it on his shoulder so her horn curled right above it.

"You're getting better at teasing, Brom," Brin approved. "Or maybe your thoughts have always been more teasing and you just filter them before they leave your mouth. Or maybe you just made that up right now to make me laugh. Whatever the case, you deserve this much at least. I love you, Brom. You're right that I'm not quite ready, though I can't put my finger on why. But I think I will be soon and I want you to know I love you. Don't give up on me yet."

Brom shook his head, shocking _himself_ when he started crying. _Is this what it feels like?_ he wondered in awe. _To give love and receive it in turn? And with only a hug too!_

He decided to make to most of the moment while it lasted by stroking Brin's back with one hand. He kept the other tightly around her waist, intending to keep her there as long as possible. The moving hand began running through her hair, freeing it from the weight of his arm. Down, all the way down.

 _Better not be_ all _the way down,_ Brom warned himself. Brin's amazing, silky black tresses reached past her waist. So then he went back up, ending at her neck and sliding his hand under the curtain of hair to brush his fingertips across her skin.

Brom felt Brin relax in his arms as if welcoming his caress. The warmth that had filled him began to increase.

 _Not good. I'll be burning again soon, just like I was when she came out here._ He stubbornly subdued the urge to press himself into her. _I want you so much, Brin!_ he cried in his mind, stilling his hand and resting his cheek against her forehead. _But not yet. It will be so much the sweeter for waiting until she's ready. And maybe you will get to hold her like this again sometime, without a blade against her throat._

Brin didn't move for a long while, and Brom eventually found that he couldn't resist playing with her hair again. It was addictive. For years he had secretly wished to feel her hair like this, run his fingers through it. Smell it. And when she quietly murmured, "That feels so good," it was all the more reason to keep going.

When her eyes closed and her breathing became deep and even, Brom asked, "Are you asleep, beautiful?"

Her lips turned up. "No, handsome. I have nowhere else to be right now. And if touching me is what you want, I'd rather this than a sword to my throat."

"Any day," he agreed. "I was just thinking the same. You smell good."

"You too, Brom," she said, eyes still closed, arms still around him. "It's because we haven't fought yet today. Thanks for providing enough water that I can bathe every night."

"You're welcome. Can I do this again sometime?"

"Whenever you want."

"Then you had better be comfortable," Brom warned. "Because you're never leaving this position again."

Brin snickered. "Good. You're warm and strong and gentle."

Brom glanced up toward the quarter deck, remembering for the first time that Will stood there. His eyes no longer focused on the dull scene beyond the ship, but were hopelessly locked on Brom and Brin.

Brom flinched at the pain in his expression. Will was surrounded by his brother and best friend, behind him and in front of him, both of whom had the opportunity of expressing their affection for the girls they adored. And Will, who had loved Lena longer than any of them and knew she loved him back, was now the one alone.

Brom's face filled with regret. He almost began pulling Brin back, but Will quickly shook his head. _Don't you dare,_ his eyes said. _Love her as much as you can while you can. She might be gone tomorrow._

Brom nodded his understanding and closed his eyes. He would honor his friend and do what Will couldn't by loving the girl he loved.

-:-:-:-


	82. Part II 28 Fear, Pain, and Coping

**28\. Fear, Pain, and Coping**

Will lifted his eyes away from the scene before him, refocusing on the ocean beyond Brom and Brin. He tried to ignore the sounds coming from the captain's cabin behind him and failed.

Clenching the wheel with a grip so tight he thought it might crush the wood, Will fiercely thought, _Lena, I'm coming for you, honey. Can you feel that?_

The blue ring on the third finger of his left hand burned with a muted heat, but Will never considered taking it off. Of course Lena wasn't perfectly well. He was grateful the ring had never felt cold since she had been kidnapped, but it constantly felt warm—too warm—and Will knew Lena was emotionally upset.

If Tenga hurt her, Will would kill him. Without hesitation. But what if he was too late? He always worried about being too late. Traveling from the Isle around the wilderness beyond eastern Alagaёsia had taken a painstaking two and a half months. Will was doing his best to be patient, but sailing was _so much_ slower than flying.

Now they were passing Alagaёsia's southwestern tip, just off the coast of Feinster. They had finally almost lined up with the pull Will felt from Lena's ring. He was grateful yet again that he had the enchantment to rely on. Otherwise they would have no clue where Lena was and the already hopeless quest would descend into pure impossibility.

Will gritted his teeth and tried to force the despairing thoughts from his mind. He focused on the warmth in his ring and reminded himself that as long as he was feeling it, Lena still had her ring on her person and it was guiding him in a true course back to the side of the girl he loved.

-:-:-

Lena quickly looked up when the door to her room opened without a knock. She was reading on her bed, hoping it would help her relax enough to fall asleep. Ever since his most recent trip to Ilirea, Tenga had been more suspicious and moody, which had made Lena's goal of helping her fellow captives all the more difficult.

"Good evening, Tenga," she calmly greeted, forcing the apprehension she felt into her mental gazebo. Tenga had never visited her room at night like this, and the way he nervously stroked his long gray beard alerted Lena to the fact that something was amiss.

"Lena," he croaked. Then he awkwardly cleared his throat. "Are you well this evening?"

"Yes, thank you. May I help you with something? Would you like a late night snack?"

"No, dear girl," Tenga declined, entering her room and closing the door behind himself. Lena's initial trepidation rapidly increased, and she fought to keep her fear from showing. Why was Tenga entering her room so late at night and shutting the door?

"To what do I owe this honor?" Lena quietly asked.

Tenga tensely twittered. "I desire a different favor, Lena. I have come to care for you, dear child. Such a lovely girl you are. So obliging. So intelligent. Never fawning. Never fearful. I lay awake in bed just now, searching for sleep but unable to find it. For my mind kept returning to you, and a long dormant burning rekindled inside of me. I know what I must do to find peace. So I am here to do it."

"You said you desire a favor," Lena faintly reminded, protectively hugging the open book to her chest. "Do I have the opportunity to refuse granting it?"

Tenga approached her bed. "I'm afraid not, lovely Lena. Rest will not find me until I have satisfied this need." He sat down and scooted toward her.

"Please," Lena softly begged. "Tenga, please don't do this. I will do anything you ask of me, anything at all, only please do not make me do this."

"It will not be as unpleasant as you think," Tenga reassured, reaching up to stroke her cheek. "This expression brings greater physical pleasure than anything else I have ever known."

"But I don't love you!" Lena cried, tears filling her eyes as she moved her face away from his hand. "The thought is repulsive to me! I will _not_ enjoy it! You are ancient! I can't go through with it!"

"You _will_ go through with it," Tenga guaranteed.

"I'll fight you," Lena warned, shifting away from him.

"Ah, Lena," Tenga regretfully chided, "I had hoped you wouldn't force my hand, but I see that I was wrong. I suppose it's good to know that you still have some fire in you, but you know I can easily require you to comply. I can even compel your body to reciprocate my attentions."

"Whatever you make me do, keep this firmly in mind," Lena spat. "I will _hate_ every second of it, you disgusting old man. And I _hate_ you. _I hate you_!" She screamed the last, unable to help herself as her captor seized control of her limbs through her mind, forcing her to return to his side.

"NO!" Lena shrieked as Tenga slid her night gown off her shoulders, but then her mouth clamped shut as he silenced her protests.

Lena did the only thing she could. She fled into her mental gazebo, distancing herself from her conscious sensations as much as she possibly could. Though Tenga forced her eyes to stay open and fixed on his face, her vision glazed over as Lena mentally escaped the experience her physical body was enduring.

-:-:-

True to his word, Will had stayed at the helm almost all that day, taking short breaks only to eat. Var's rumbling, though not as loud as their father's, was still loud enough for Will to hear. And it had been grating on his ears surprisingly often, interspersed with bouts of laughter and conversation, which—thankfully—Will could not fully overhear.

Will absently remembered Eragon's warning the day he and Var had asked him and Murtagh for permission to marry their daughters. Eragon had said something to Var about being prepared for Zadí to be like her mother. While Will obviously had no idea what his Aunt Arya was like behind closed doors, he supposed she must be quite passionate, judging by how tireless Zadí appeared to be.

Will again focused on his ring, allowing his thoughts to drift to Lena and what it would be like once they found her. He would immediately marry her, of course. And then he would enjoy a day like Var had today.

The burn from Will's ring abruptly began to intensify. He clenched the wheel more tightly, gritting his teeth as his eyes stung from the pain. _I won't take it off_ , he stubbornly thought. _I_ should _have to feel Lena's distress. But_ what _is happening to her! My ring has never been this hot before._

Will's heart went cold as he remembered what Tenga had threatened to do. _If you are touching her, you old pervert,_ Will shouted in his mind, _I will kill you! Stay away from her!_

But there was nothing he could do! He couldn't help Lena, couldn't protect her! And she would be defenseless against the ancient magician, who could obviously force her to do whatever he wanted.

Then Will's ring changed again. Suddenly the inside of the band went icy cold while the rim seared his skin with a blazing heat. Smoke rose from his hand as the smell of burned flesh assaulted his nostrils. Will yelled in agony and ripped the ring from his finger, hurling it to the deck, where it branded the wood.

"Will?" Nefin's concerned voice floated down from the crow's nest. "Everything all right?"

"No!" Will barked. "Go get everyone. Something is happening to Lena, and we need to somehow help her."

Nefin gracefully swung down from his perch, disappearing below deck before Will could even blink. He dropped to his knees in front of the ring, his eyes filling with hopeless tears of frustration. "I'm so sorry, honey," Will whispered, blowing on his charred finger. "I'm so sorry I can't help you."

His friends soon joined Will on the quarter deck.

"What happened!" Ajh exclaimed, crouching down beside Will.

"Look at your finger!" Hanna added in concern, reaching for Will's singed hand.

Will jerked it away. "No. Don't heal me. Something is happening to Lena right now. My ring was suddenly burning hot. Then without warning, the inside of the band went icy cold while the outer rim seared bright red, hot enough to do this. I'm worried Tenga is attacking her in the way he implied he might. My ring has never been hot and cold like that at the same time. Maybe the inside went cold because she's feeling physical pain . . . inside her . . ." He trailed off, sickened by the thought.

"That might not be it," Brom softly suggested. "She might have retreated into her mental defenses. She created them whenever we would practice in Ilirea. She is probably trying to distance herself from any physical perception of what is happening. Maybe her ring reacted in this strange way if she separated her mental and physical awareness."

"What can we do?" Will entreated. "Does anyone have any ideas?"

Everyone was silent. After all, they really couldn't do anything.

Then Hanna timidly spoke up, "My little sister said she would keep praying for us. Maybe we can pray for Lena. There's nothing else the rest of us can do without being with her. Angela might hear and somehow help."

"You're right," Will agreed. "Will you all join me?" And they did.

-:-:-

Tenga soon had her top half bare, but Lena was scarcely aware. He muttered in frustration as she continued distancing herself from what was happening to her physical body.

"Where are you?" Tenga growled. "This is like making love to a dummy! If you were screaming and crying, at least I would feel some sense of conquest. But you are not even in your mind!"

His hands stopped at her undergarments, and Tenga lifted the chain holding Lena's golden ring.

"What is this?" Tenga questioned in consternation.

And Lena abruptly returned to a state of full consciousness, focusing her already open eyes on the ring in Tenga's hand.

"My engagement ring!" she exclaimed. "I hid it because I didn't want you to take it."

"Why would I have taken it?" Tenga demanded. "Unless it is more than a simple ring." He once again began muttering, and Lena sensed that he was infusing these words in the ancient language with magical power.

"An enchanted ring," Tenga remarked in a tone of enlightenment. "That has a pair. Worn, no doubt, by your valiant beau. Will, wasn't it? Ah, how sweet. He enchanted the rings to draw toward their match. Which must be how those nine children—your friends, I would guess—are making their way straight here. But there is more, is there not?" He continued magically examining the ring. "Clever spell. The ring will change temperature depending on its wearer's well-being. I wonder what Will was feeling just now. And what would happen if I were to take this ring away from you, dear Lena? Would he continue following the pull it exerts? He most likely would if I but modified the spell. Not a hard matter, so pardon me for a moment."

Tenga's disturbingly calm mumbling became unintelligible. Lena could only assume he was altering the spell Will had placed on the ring. As Tenga said, not a difficult thing for one with hundreds of years' worth of magical practice.

"There we go," Tenga finally declared in obvious satisfaction. "All better. Now the ring will continue to act just as it always has, though it will soon be thousands of miles away from you."

Lena despairingly shook her head.

"This troubles you, dear one? Well, now that you have shared how you truly regard me, consider it just punishment. I will take this ring far from here and hope your beloved continues to follow the draw. When, or perhaps I should say if, he finds it, he will also find himself in a deadly trap."

"No," Lena whispered as Tenga arose from her bed and swiftly strode toward the door, still clutching her ring in his hand.

"We will resume our . . . interaction at a later time," Tenga promised in a chilling tone. "Until then."


	83. Part II 29 Bid'Daum

**29\. Bid'Daum**

After her door slammed shut, Lena forced herself to count to five. During those five seconds, her eyes filled with blinding tears. Then she sprang up and darted out of her room, yanking her nightgown back up as she went. She held the top closed as she sprinted barefoot to the Rock of Kuthian.

There she gasped her true name and impatiently waited for the arching doorway to appear. Once it had, she shoved her way into the stone tunnel and resumed her mad dash down the slope.

Tenga had almost succeeded in stealing her virtue. The entire time he had tried, Lena had been praying for help, for anything to happen that would keep him from completing his design. She was sure Will had been engaged in a similar supplicatory effort as he experienced her distress through his ring.

But this! No, this couldn't be the answer!

Her ring had stopped Tenga, but now it was gone. They had only managed to trick Tenga for a couple of months, and now he had retaliated in full force. What else would Will do but continue following its pull, especially if it felt like the ring was still on her person? Will knew that Tenga could travel at impossible speeds and take her anywhere he wanted.

But if Will did follow the draw from her ring, he and all of the rest of her friends would be heading straight into a trap! A trap that would probably involve the Shade and any dark forces she had managed to amass.

 _NO!_ Lena shrieked in her mind, venting her anger and frustration at nothing. But then she was in the Vault of Souls and facing the perfect scapegoat.

So she began screaming aloud at the top of her lungs, "WAKE UP, YOU STUPID, SELFISH, APATHETIC OLD DRAGON!" She collapsed to her knees in front of Bid'Daum's Eldunarí and pounded her fists against the hard white surface, desperate tears raining to the ground beneath her face.

In a hoarser voice she continued, "I hate you too, you foolish, pathetic excuse for a dragon! For all of these months, and likely countless years before, you have done nothing but wallow in self-pity, completely closed off from a world you could help. You allowed all of this to happen by simply _letting_ Tenga borrow your power. I hate you, Bid'Daum! And I would kill you if I could! If I had the strength, I would roll your Eldunarí to the edge of a cliff and push it off! You don't deserve to live! You might as well be dead for how much good you have done!"

Swiftpaw had made her way over at the sound of Lena's shouting. The werecat was now strong enough to assume her human form, and so the young girl Swiftpaw urgently reproved, "Lena, it is unwise to address a dragon in such a manner! Iduna heard your words and implored that I interfere before something terrible happens."

"What harm could possibly come of yelling at Bid'Daum!" Lena angrily demanded. "He is a worthless white orb! A waste of space! Tenga doesn't even need him anymore! Bid'Daum indifferently performed his part in destroying the land of Alagaёsia and will remain down here for all eternity after the rest of us die."

Lena turned back to the Eldunarí and resumed her tirade, "Is that what you want, you thoughtless beast? To continue existing forever all alone? I thought dragons were brave! I thought they cared about what happened to their species! Even Belgabad—the oldest wild dragon—fought in the final battle against Galbatorix, attempting to prevent the dragons' extinction, and he never had a Rider. But you? No, you do _nothing_! You could help these elves dying right in your presence, use their magical abilities to stand against Tenga, but you cower here and do _nothing_! NOTHING!"

"Lena," Swiftpaw begged. "That's enough."

"Go away, Swiftpaw," Lena impatiently snapped, continuing to rage at the dragon, "I bet your Rider couldn't stand being with you anymore, useless mound of flesh that you were! He probably killed himself to end his misery of being bonded to such a cowardly creature! The great and legendary Bid'Daum, dragon of the very first Rider, abandoned by Eragon at—"

 _SILENCE!_ an enraged voice thundered in Lena's mind. She cringed at the pain in her head, clapping her hands to her temples. _How dare you address me in such a manner, impudent brat! How_ dare _you insinuate such a thing about my Rider! You know nothing of what you speak!_

"I'll say whatever I want!" Lena defied. "I bet I'm not far off, judging by how defensive you're acting! Besides, knowing you, you can't do _anything_ to stop me. I'd just like to see you _try_ to stop—"

Her words cut off in a choked splutter as Bid'Daum apparently began doing just that. An unseen force closed around her throat. Lena's hands flew to her neck as she struggled in vain to fill her lungs.

 _You know nothing of the good I have done, of what sorrows I have endured!_ the white dragon roared. _You cannot even begin to comprehend the magnitude of my experience and wisdom! I will snuff out your life for your insolence!_

 _GOOD!_ Lena mentally shrieked. _Kill me now, Bid'Daum! I_ want _to die! I would rather die a thousand deaths than let that filthy old man ever touch me again! At least you're doing me one small favor._

 _I demand that you cease!_ Bid'Daum bellowed.

 _Demand away,_ Lena ridiculed. _I'll keep thinking insults at you until my life is over. At least you're capable of_ some _action, miserable beast. Before you retreat back into your selfish, worthless hibernation, you might as well kill Iduna and Nёya while you're at it. Two elves once youthful and fair are now as good as dead. You, the only one who might have sustained them, sat idly by while they withered into ancient husks—blind, deaf, and nearly dumb._

The constricting tightness around Lena's neck unexpectedly relaxed, and an aching, defeated sadness emanated from the Eldunarí. Something about the words Lena used to describe the elven twins' deterioration triggered a painful memory in Bid'Daum's consciousness.

 _Two elves?_ Bid'Daum numbly echoed, and Lena felt him thinking about his elven Rider, who had once been youthful and fair.

"Yes, two elves," Lena heatedly confirmed, absently rubbing her throat. "The two elves chosen to guard the Dragon Rider pact. Older even than you, Bid'Daum. And now they are dying because that treaty is no more, undone by your own power. But did you know about this? No! Of course not! For you merely allowed a twisted old magician to borrow your vitality for his own vengeful purposes, remaining hidden deep within your heart, too swallowed in your own sorrow and suffering to extend your awareness to the world around you!"

 _Enough, girl!_ the dragon irritably rumbled. _I understand your disdain. And I will not forget it. A dragon does not lightly dismiss such insults, especially not when directed at his Rider. So you hate me, do you? You think me worthless and pathetic?_

"Yes," Lena confirmed. "In the time since Tenga seized possession of your Eldunarí, you have done nothing to resist his efforts. All other bodiless dragons of which I am aware resented and fought such abuse until they were forcefully subjected. But you permitted a lunatic wizard to undo one of the oldest, most defining magical treaties governing Alagaёsia, and now utter chaos and destruction threaten the land."

 _I care nothing for such trivial matters,_ Bid'Daum wearily informed. _You cannot possibly understand the depth of my loss and loneliness._

"Why don't you try me?" Lena challenged. "I know I'm young, Bid'Daum, but I'm smart. And I've studied the misuse of the Eldunarí for years. What if I could help you?"

 _Help me_ , the dragon scorned. You _could not help_ me. _Infant human girl. Insolent human girl._

"Try me," Lena repeated. "Tell me of your sorrows, oh noble dragon."

 _Watch yourself, child_ , the dragon warned. _I am still powerful enough to kill you, and I will not tolerate such invectives indefinitely._

"If you killed me, I would consider it a favor," Lena retorted. "As I said before, I would rather die than relive what Tenga did to me tonight. But in killing me, you might remove your last chance for ending your own miserable existence. Consider wisely."

 _You walk a dangerous line_ , Bid'Daum chillingly cautioned. _But as your words contain some sense, I will share some of my history._

Abruptly, Lena was seeing the dragon's memories in her mind.

 _Centuries earlier, a Bid'Daum still possessed of his flesh body landed on a distant island. His last flight, as both he and his Rider were perfectly aware, for his body was so immense that he could barely stagger to his feet under the immeasurable bulk of his head, neck, trunk, and tail. He had only been able to take flight this one last time by tottering to the opening of the cave they dwelt in, walking off the high ledge, and unfurling his cloud-sized wings before his gigantic form crashed to the earth below. . . ._

 _The island shuddered under the massive impact of his landing, triggering a minor earthquake and enormous waves. Bid'Daum lurched forward only enough to distance himself from the beach. Here he and Eragon had come to finish out their lives. Because Bid'Daum could scarcely even move, they had essentially outlived their usefulness in Alagaёsia as the first bonded dragon and Dragon Rider. But Eragon would never consider leaving his dragon—his partner of heart and mind for thousands of years—to venture into the land on his own._

 _To discourage anyone from attempting to abuse the immense power of Bid'Daum's Eldunarí, he and his Rider had devised a plan. They determined to leave Alagaёsia and die in obscurity. Eragon intended to let Bid'Daum slip into the void before him, whereupon he would somehow attempt to destroy Bid'Daum's Eldunarí, for the heart of hearts was then far too large for the dragon to disgorge up his neck and out his maw. Then the elf would end his own life._

 _But the plan had gone awry when Eragon died before Bid'Daum, too exhausted and defeated to care about feeding himself. And with a far smaller body, he simply had not the stores to outlive his colossal dragon. Eragon, an elf thousands of years old, had shriveled before Bid'Daum's eyes into an ancient husk—blind, deaf, and dumb._

 _And when his Rider's life had left him, Bid'Daum had fully fled into his heart of hearts in an effort to escape his anguish and loneliness, hoping to distance himself enough that he would no longer feel the pain of his loss._

 _But even after his flesh had finally wasted away, Bid'Daum was alone and had no means of ending his existence. So he had withdrawn even further, filled with despair that he might never escape his misery._

 _And so you see, Lena_ , the dragon concluded his narrative, _I want nothing more than to die._

"Is there a way to destroy your Eldunarí?" Lena asked.

 _It is so large that it would require a magical effort to lift high enough to shatter against the earth_ , Bid'Daum explained. _But before we discuss this matter, I want you to think your words to me so that the werecat will not overhear._

Lena was somewhat surprised by this request, but she nonetheless obliged. _The elves have already told me that no elf would consider ending your life, Bid'Daum. Do you agree with that assessment?_

 _I do_.

 _What if I promised to ensure such an outcome? I have friends who would help me. If we could manage to destroy your Eldunarí, would you assist me in my current plight?_

 _Are you attempting to negotiate with me?_

 _Exactly. If you sustain the Caretakers' lives, keep Tenga away from me, make it possible for my friends to find me, and then somehow help us figure out how to reverse his curse and restore the Dragon Rider pact, I promise I will see to it that your Eldunarí is destroyed._

 _That agreement heavily favors your needs and interests_ , Bid'Daum pointed out.

 _You told me you want nothing more than to die_ , Lena reminded. _Is what I ask really so much that you would refuse to help?_

 _No. I consent to these terms. But I require that you swear in this the ancient language not to reveal our contract to anyone, not even your friends, until the moment arrives for you to fulfill your end of it. I do not want anyone learning—especially not the elves—what you promised to do before you complete it. They might interfere and remove you as my best chance of finding death. I hope your confidence in your friends is well-placed, Lena, for if they do not help you uphold your promise, I will finish what I started today. I will end your life if you fail to end mine._

-:-:-:-

* * *

 **A/N:** Yay! My whiny A/N at the end of last chapter worked! :) Thank you so much for all of the reviews and encouragement. More important than the fact that I received tons of feedback, I felt a renewed determination to keep up my efforts in spite of my ongoing pregnancy exhaustion. So if some of you would condescend to do the same every few chapters, I would _really_ appreciate it. It helps more than you possibly know! ~Autumn :)

P.S. I hope this chapter clears up the ambiguity that Tenga did NOT actually complete his design. As some of the reviewers said, what Lena is enduring is so undeserved. I just couldn't do that to her, but he had to at least try in order to find the ring.


	84. Part II 30 New Direction

**A/N:** I wrote a chapter called "Var's Dream Come True" that would chronologically occur right here in the story, just after that first -:-:- a few paragraphs down. It's a romantic fluff scene about the morning after Var and Zadí get married. It was one of those that just filled my head months ago and I had to write it down so I could focus on what I was working on at the time. Anyway, I knew from the moment I wrote it that I wouldn't include it in the main story posting after what just happened with Will and Lena because of how it would disrupt the flow. But if you enjoy such scenes and the way I portray them, you might like it. It's one of my top five favorite love scenes that I've ever written because of how Var acts at the beginning. I just think he's funny. If interested, you can find it over on my livejournal page (autumn6435 . livejournal . com) under that title mentioned above. And it's rated M, just so ya know! :) I guess if you read that, you actually get two new chapters today!

* * *

 **30\. New Direction**

Tenga stormed into the office where Trianna sat filing her fingernails into sharp points. She arose in surprise, not expecting the sudden intrusion. Almost everyone else in the palace slept, mere mortals that they were. But Trianna needed no more than a few hours of sleep each night, and she had never enjoyed passing the tedious time until morning.

"Master," she greeted. "To what to I owe—"

"Quiet!" Tenga commanded, holding up his hand, whereon lay a golden ring. "I just discovered this engagement band encircled about Lena's waist. She hid it from me, and it was guiding her friends—the nine youth on the ship—directly to her location. Her fiancé enchanted their two rings to draw toward one another and change temperature based on what they were feeling. That second part of the spell only worked if the ring was near its wearer. However, I have modified the enchantment so that it will continue to feel the same as it always has. Which means that if all goes well, the children will head inland toward this ring. And when they find it . . ."

"They will also find me," Trianna knowingly finished. "Shall I set a trap for them, master?"

Tenga smiled wickedly. "Precisely my thoughts. Ensure that it is deadly. Kill them all. However you want."

"With pleasure," Trianna murmured.

-:-:-

Var and Zadí were enjoying a playful start to their first full day as a married couple when an insistent knocking on the door to the captain's cabin interrupted them.

Will tensely called, "Var? I'm sorry, brother, but we need to talk together as a group. Lena's ring is pulling from a new direction."

Var looked at Zadí in surprise, and her face filled with concern. "We'll be right out, Will," Var answered.

They quickly dressed, and Var muttered, "Zadí, please let me focus out there. I love how wild you are, but it will be hard enough without enduring any teasing looks or touches."

Zadí smiled mischievously and took his hand. "I promise I will let you focus, my husband," she solemnly vowed.

Var smiled back and kissed the top of her head. He opened the door and followed her out to the quarter deck where their seven friends were waiting.

"Sorry we kept you," Var apologized. "What happened?"

Will tersely related his experience of the previous night. "Before my ring was pulling almost due north, with only a slight western deviation. I think if we had ended up passing the Spine, we would have been heading directly north."

"Which means we would have run straight into Vroengard," Brom stated.

"Do you really think Tenga would have taken Lena there?" Nefin asked. "It's practically uninhabitable."

Brom shrugged. "He's a strong enough magician to protect himself from the sickness in the air. But which way does your ring want to go now, Will?"

"Still north, but now with a strong pull to the east."

"So do we follow it?" Var asked. "We don't have much else to go on, but I'm sure you've already considered that Tenga might have simply found Lena's ring and taken it away from her to throw us off."

"Yes, I have," Will verified. "Lena and I once tested how the rings felt if one or the other of us wasn't wearing ours. The sensation is different. Unless Tenga modified my spell, which I know is a real possibility, the ring is still with Lena."

"And what if Tenga _did_ modify the spell and is now leading us away from Lena?" Ajh questioned. "He could drag us all across Alagaёsia, and we would never find her."

"I know," Will muttered in frustration. "That's why I wanted to discuss this together. What do we do? Maybe he had her hidden in a remote location in the mountains. Maybe as we rounded the land bordering the Spine, we would have felt to stop there. We really don't know how much farther north we would have traveled."

"And we also have no way of knowing how far northeast we will need to travel before we find Lena," Brom pointed out. " _If_ we find her."

Will nodded, unrolling the map he held in his hand. He crouched down and smoothed it out on the deck. "We are here," he said, pointing to the sea just off the southern tip of the Spine mountain range. "My ring wants us to go this way." He slowly drew a line with his finger all the way across the map. It passed right above Feinster, directly through Ilirea, across the Hadarac Desert, and near a couple of charted elven cities.

"She could be anywhere!" Zadí despaired.

"But don't you think the most logical place would be Ilirea?" Brin remarked. "Of course, that would also be the most logical place for a trap, especially if this Shade we heard about is working for Tenga."

"We don't have many options," Will summarized. "We can try sailing according to the course my ring _used_ to be guiding us in, but we would have nothing solid to rely on and we've already established that Tenga could have Lena any number of places. Or we can follow the pull and hope it takes us to Lena. Or at least to where we might get more information."

"And not get ourselves killed," Brin helpfully contributed.

"Right," Will dryly agreed. "So what do we do? Should we vote?"

"It's not much of a choice," Var said. "If we go the same direction, we'll be sailing blind, so to speak, with no way of knowing whether we're even headed toward anything. We need to follow Will's ring."

Everyone else nodded, though Hanna did say, "But what if the Shade _is_ involved and the ring _does_ lead us right into a trap and we're all killed?"

"We're pretty good fighters," Brin reassured. "We could take a Shade."

"But what if the Shade has a whole army?" Hanna worried. "Remember how Durza and Galbatorix coerced the Urgals? Not _all_ of us are great fighters. You former Dragon Riders might be able to defeat a Shade, but would the nine of us triumph against an entire army?"

"We don't have much of a choice, Hanna," Nefin gently reminded, echoing Var's words. "We'll deal with that if we have to. But we also have some pretty impressive magical abilities between us, which can go a long way when fighting large groups of people."

Var felt Zadí shift by his side. He glanced over. She was looking down, and he knew she was thinking about the fact that she possessed no impressive fighting or magical abilities.

Hanna softly said, "I don't know if I could use magic to kill anyone. It seems so unfair to just think a simple spell and end their life."

"I know, sweetie," Nefin comforted. "I feel the same. But we can't do nothing and Will's ring is our best chance."

Hanna reluctantly nodded.

"So now we need to decide where to drop anchor," Var said. "I'm not sure leaving the ship docked in a port like Feinster would be the smartest idea. If the Shade knows about us, she might attempt to cut off any escape routes, one of which would obviously be this ship. Brom, are there villages or settlements along this western coast of the Spine?"

"I've been trying not to reach out too far," Brom regretfully informed. "I would have a better idea once we get closer."

"What about this little inlet right here?" Will questioned, moving his finger on the map to stab the tiny peninsula jutting out less than a fourth of the way up the westernmost arm of the Spine. "It's far enough from the tip of the mountain range to discourage easy access. I would imagine the surrounding area is mostly uninhabited. The ship is protected by wards to discourage or distract any creatures with ill intent, so if we hid it here, it would probably be relatively safe. We could reach this bay in another day or so, anchor the ship there, and walk back down the beach until we come across civilization."

"If you don't mind the extra time that will take, I think it's a great plan," Var approved. "Protecting the ship seems an important priority. We'll eventually have to return to it so we can get back home."

"Unless Lena finds a way to reverse Tenga's plot," Keeta commented. "Then hopefully our dragons would come back."

"That would be wonderful," Var agreed. "But we shouldn't count on it, just in case. Will we be fine with regards to supplies, Keeta?"

"Should be," she confirmed. "There's enough packed on the ship to last about ten more months."

"But we can't carry most of that with us," Zadí quietly submitted.

"True," Keeta granted. "We have money to obtain supplies along the way, should we require them."

"I suppose that settles it," Will concluded. "Let's head for that cove and prepare our packs for a trek across land."

-:-:-:-


	85. Part II 31 An Unexpected Encounter

**31\. An Unexpected Encounter**

The youth on the ship reached the small inlet a full week after they expected. Several days without wind resulted in a much diminished pace. The three who typically harnessed the wind had nothing to work with, so they had continued their fighting drills and readied their packs and the ship for the time when they would reach their destination.

Aside from the unfavorable weather conditions, which were mostly beyond their control, Nefin was somewhat concerned that they hadn't encountered any setbacks. He had worried that Tenga's newfound knowledge of their secret would lead to some unpleasant consequences, and the lack of obstacles unsettled him.

After anchoring the ship on a cool, clear fall morning, the nine friends gathered on the beach to discuss their plans.

"I've studied the twins' map, and I believe the coast stretches south for approximately twenty miles," Brom started. "We can probably walk that distance over the course of two days and see if we can find any settlements."

"What will we do about the chickens?" Hanna worriedly asked.

"We've left them with enough food and water to survive for several days without us," Ajh reassured. "They'll keep laying, but maybe we can return for them if we find some people who would look after them."

Hanna nodded as Keeta contributed, "I suggest that we try to find horses. I realize that might be difficult if we only come across small villages, but I already know I'll slow everyone down. We should expect a trip of at least a month or two on horseback, assuming we're traveling to Ilirea. But if we tried to cover the same distance on foot, we would be walking for months and months—"

"And we don't have time for that," Will firmly finished. "I agree that we try to find horses. And if we can, we should return here to the ship before we begin our journey and pack as many of the supplies as we already have to save time and money."

"Yes," Brom agreed. "All good ideas. Anything else before we go?"

No one could think of anything, so they shouldered their packs and set off down the beach, heading south toward the tip of the Spine. Much to Nefin's amusement, Zadí sympathetically delighted in her new husband's anti-seasickness. For, true to his word, Var staggered about like a drunk for several hours, occasionally asking for a break so he could lurch over to a nearby rock and vomit behind it. But he soon regained his land legs.

Brom led the group while Nefin brought up the rear, both constantly using their minds to scout out their surroundings. And Nefin never ceased evaluating the environment with his other tracker's gifts. He never noticed other suspicious creatures like the raven spy.

The first day of walking through the shifting sand went fairly well. But they were all weary by the time they stopped to set up camp that evening. For two months they had been sailing on a ship. And while Brom and Brin had ensured that the group rarely enjoyed a lazy moment, none of them had recently walked such a distance.

Nefin was, of course, most worried about Keeta. Though she obviously never complained, her shorter stature made it impossible to keep up with her friends unless she maintained a jogging pace the whole while. Will, Var, Brom, Brin, and Nefin—the tallest in the group of tall youth—had done their best to shorten their long strides for Keeta's sake, but it was hard to sustain what to them seemed a slow pace when everyone felt such a sense of urgency.

Keeta had started the day by Brin's side near the front. But by the time they stopped that night, she had fallen to the rear. Nefin was amazed by her endless stamina, for she had jogged nearly ten miles with only a break for lunch about halfway through the day. Such a distance would have been nothing for Nefin, who could have sprinted the whole way in a fraction of the time and kept it up without even a break for lunch, but he was an elf and Keeta was a dwarf.

As they sat around the fire that evening, everyone agreed that they were grateful for their knee-high boots, which at least kept the sand away from their feet. But other than the minimal conversation during dinner, they were mostly quiet and soon retired for the night.

-:-:-

The next morning was cloudy and chill, but the group set off after breakfast determined to cover the remaining ten or so miles until they rounded the mountain range. But the wind howled in their faces, swirling sand around and blasting spray off the ocean, effectively slowing the pace they had maintained the previous day.

When dinnertime arrived, the group was still a couple of miles short of their goal, so everyone agreed to keep going a while longer, hoping to come across some type of settlement or village.

By the time the sun disappeared below the horizon, Keeta was stumbling every few paces, staying with the group through sheer determination alone. Nefin had always remained just behind her, though it meant he was now strolling along at what seemed a leisurely pace. He had taken her pack hours before, but she stubbornly refused any offer to take a break.

Finally he couldn't stand it anymore. He knew Keeta would never be the one to suggest they stop because she didn't want to admit that keeping up with them was hard for her. So Nefin simply increased his stride until he was beside her and scooped her up under her armpits, turning her around and holding her in front of him.

Keeta wrapped her legs around his waist and arms around his neck, laying her head on his shoulder. She panted for several minutes, her chest heaving, before finally saying, "Thank you, Nefin. I would have fallen on my face before long."

"You're welcome," he murmured, easily increasing his stride until he was directly behind Hanna and Ajh. "I couldn't stand to watch you struggle any longer and knew you would do just that before asking to stop."

She breathed an exhausted laugh into his neck and said no more.

Nefin mentally communicated with Brom, _We can keep going a while longer unless anyone else needs to rest. I'll just carry Keeta until we do. Do you sense anything ahead? I still haven't, but I'm focusing more on potential threats, like you asked._

Brom replied, _I think there might be a small village some miles ahead, but before even that I feel a couple of people by themselves on the beach. As we get closer, maybe in another mile, I'll see if I can sense any more._

So they continued walking, covering the short distance in twenty minutes, thanks to the relentless wind. But Brom finally called for the group to stop. As they huddled around him, Nefin used a spell to soften the howling of the wind so they could hear Brom.

"There are two people—a young woman and small child—not far ahead of us," Brom began. "I haven't pried deep into their minds because I can tell they aren't a threat. The woman is very fearful and trying to hide herself and the child. Perhaps one of us could approach and attempt to speak with her, see if we can learn anything about the village several miles from here over the foothills."

Everyone looked around at each other. "Is she human?" Zadí finally asked.

"Yes," Brom confirmed.

"Then I'll go," Zadí volunteered. "I'm the only one of us who looks like a human. Even Ajh's ears are slightly pointed from being a Dragon Rider."

"And I doubt many people in this area have dark skin like mine," Ajh helpfully supplied.

"Will she be safe?" Var questioned Brom.

"Undoubtedly," Brom assured. "I think Zadí is the best choice."

"You said she's trying to hide?" Zadí verified. Brom nodded. "So how do you suggest I go about approaching when I shouldn't have any knowledge of her?"

Brom smiled. "I'm sure you'll come up with something, little sister. I would imagine there is evidence around that someone is staying in the area."

Zadí turned to Var and asked for access to her pack, which he was obviously carrying for her. "I'll be fine, sweetheart," she reassured, rummaging around for a moment. She withdrew a blanket and some food then stretched up to kiss him. "Brom will keep an eye on me from a distance. I shouldn't be long."

-:-:-

Zadí walked away from her friends hugging the bundles to her chest. What would a young woman and small child be doing out here by themselves, miles from the nearest village?

Zadí soon discovered the evidence Brom had predicted. Dried driftwood piled together, ashy remnants of a fire in a ring of rocks, seaweed lying out on the beach in a row, small heaps of seashells.

Drawing her cloak more tightly around her shoulders to ward off the growing chill, Zadí looked toward the nearby mountains, searching for more clues. A thin trail of smoke, barely visible against the dark backdrop, rose toward the cloudy sky.

The young woman must be cold, but if she was trying to stay hidden, a fire wouldn't be the smartest idea. Zadí again felt concern and curiosity as she headed toward the smoke. Muted light from the fire soon came into view, and Zadí saw the girl's camp nestled in a small depression between the lowest foothills.

Zadí walked closer still, waiting to call out until she was within sight. When she was near enough to see the young woman, clutching a small child in her arms and sitting beside a dying fire, Zadí stopped.

"Hello," she softly called in the common tongue.

The young woman sharply looked up, fear filling her eyes as she hugged the child tighter.

"Who are you?" the girl demanded. "What do you want?"

"My name is Zadí," Zadí answered. "I only want some information about whether or not there is a town nearby. I noticed the smoke from your fire and followed it. May I come closer?"

The young woman warily regarded her, moving one hand to the child's head and pressing it to her chest. "Are you here to take him?"

"The child? Of course not. Is he your son?"

The girl hesitantly nodded.

"Has anyone tried to take him before?"

"Yes," the girl whispered, her eyes filling with tears as she returned her gaze to the fire.

"I'm so sorry," Zadí softly replied. "May I come closer?"

The girl shrugged, keeping her eyes on the flames, so Zadí slowly approached and took a seat opposite the pair. Now that she was nearer, Zadí was able to examine the young woman's condition. Her clothing was tattered and threadbare, her hands and face filthy. She looked gaunt and defeated. Irritated red sores spotted her bare feet.

But the girl was quite attractive in spite of these circumstances. She had long dark hair, which was knotted and dull at the moment, but no doubt shining and full when clean. Large blue eyes shone out of an olive complexion in startling contrast to her dark hair. Glancing around, Zadí noticed nothing along the lines of belongings. The girl appeared to be homeless and destitute in every respect.

"Do you live out here?" Zadí asked.

The girl absently nodded without making eye contact. Zadí noticed she was shivering. The child in her lap—who was asleep, Zadí now saw—was wrapped in a few pieces of thin clothing. Zadí guessed that the girl had sacrificed her own comfort for the benefit of her son.

Tears filled her eyes as Zadí arose and unfolded the blanket she had brought with her. The girl fearfully looked up at the unexpected movement, but made no objection as Zadí skirted the fire and draped the blanket around her shoulders.

"I also have some food," Zadí informed, laying the bundle in front of the girl before returning to her position opposite her bedraggled companion.

The young woman didn't hesitate to open the bundle and greedily devour the first thing her hand touched. Zadí quietly waited, observing the boy and his mother. He was a fair child, despite the grime, with dark hair, a delicate face, defined eyebrows, and long lashes that rested on his cheeks. He seemed so peaceful in sleep, though Zadí guessed that his life was very difficult. She thought of her little sister Ari, who was also a lovely child.

"Your son is very beautiful," Zadí finally commented, breaking the long silence. The girl guiltily looked up, swallowing hard. "I have some water if you're thirsty," Zadí offered, untying the water skin around her waist and extending it over the fire.

The young woman accepted the canteen and took a long drink. "Thank you. Is that a wedding ring on your left hand? You seem quite young."

Zadí smiled. "I just turned seventeen. On my birthday just over a week ago, I married my sweetheart. Please feel free to eat all of that food. I can bring plenty more for when your son wakes up. How old is he?"

"He'll be three on his next birthday."

"My youngest sister is also nearly three. Her birthday is in late winter."

"Freddie's too."

"Is that his name?"

"Aye. Short for Frederick, which is the name of the only man who was ever like a father to me. At least until he discovered I was expecting his grandson."

Zadí creased her brow, confused by the girl's statement and unmistakable bitterness. "Why do you live out here?" Zadí gently questioned. "What of the boy's father?"

The young woman's expression hardened. "He skipped town not long after the encounter that left me pregnant. For a time, before my condition was obvious, things continued as they always had, though his parents were concerned by his sudden disappearance. But when it became clear that I was pregnant and I tried to explain why, they wouldn't believe me, didn't want to believe their son would do such a thing. I lived with them as hired help, you see. They originally took me in when I was only seven because my own parents were unfit to care for me—father a drunk, mother a lunatic. That's how I met Isaac."

Zadí stiffened, her eyes widening in disbelief. Surely she couldn't be referring to the same Isaac Zadí had met at the last Choosing Ceremony! He was from Dras-Leona. Then Zadí remembered Isaac's words during his trial.

 _They live in an obscure village located at the southeastern most tip of the Spine,_ he had said of his parents. _And I doubt they'll care much one way or the other. I left home three years ago with the intention of never returning._

The details of time and location fit, and Zadí's mouth went dry as she struggled to reconcile this new information with her resentful feelings toward Isaac.

But the girl didn't seem to notice Zadí's stunned reaction as she continued, "Isaac's father, the innkeeper in town, turned me out on the streets. In my disgraceful state, no one else would open their doors. They shunned and scorned me, and I realized I was on my own. I didn't want my child to grow up labeled a bastard for something completely beyond their control, so I left and came here. I gave birth and raised him all by myself, but I have nothing to offer him except my love. He's such a sweet boy. He deserves so much more than this."

Zadí was still reeling by the shocking insight she had just gained. This girl was Isaac's first victim, the one Nasuada's servants hadn't been able to find and help. No wonder! Isaac had indeed fathered a child and left his child's mother in the exact circumstances Uncle Varhog had described. A strange combination of anger and compassion welled up inside of Zadí, and she desperately wanted to do something to help the young woman and her son.

The girl interrupted the second long silence by suspiciously asking, "But what are _you_ doing out here, Zadí? You're not from the village. I know everyone there."

Zadí shook herself from her daze, looking up at the young woman. "You're right. I'm not from around here. I am traveling with eight friends. We were sailing on a ship until only two days ago, but suddenly had to change course. We anchored our ship in the small cove twenty miles up the beach, hoping it would be safe there while we headed inland for a time. We have walked south the past two days, expecting to eventually run into a town. We need to find horses to continue our travels."

"Eight friends?" the girl doubtfully repeated. "Where are they? Why did you come alone?"

"They are waiting for me a short distance up the beach. I came alone because the rest of them don't look like humans. Several of them actually aren't."

"What do you mean?"

"One is an Urgal, two are elves, two have pointed ears like elves, though one—my brother—is only part elf and the other is a human who was once a Dragon Rider. One is a dwarf. Two are part Urgal, part human, but they have horns like Urgals."

The girl's eyes widened in astonishment. "Urgals, elves, dwarves," she muttered. "Never seen their likes around here. They will not be welcomed in the village I grew up in, Zadí. The townspeople are very closed off to outsiders and completely racist against non-humans. I used to be the same until I received that treatment and felt how hurtful it was. Did you say Dragon Rider?"

"Yes," Zadí verified. "Actually, seven of my companions were once Dragon Riders. I suppose you have no way of knowing this, but the Dragon Riders are no more. Somehow a powerful magician learned a way to destroy their order, and my friends and I are now traveling to find the crown princess, whom this old wizard kidnapped."

"Are you lying?" the girl mistrustfully demanded.

"No . . . my friend. Sorry, I just realized I don't know your name, but you needn't tell me. Would you consent to meeting my friends? You would at least see that I was honest about them. Perhaps you will then trust the rest of my words. I swear none of them will harm you or Freddie. We will actually do anything and everything we can to help you, if you will let us."

"How could _you_ help _me_?" the girl sarcastically queried.

"You told me earlier that people had tried to take Freddie away from you. Did this happen recently?"

"Yes. And I don't know for sure that they wanted to take him away, but I think they were. One of my old friends from the village who believed my story about Isaac occasionally comes out here to bring me food, if she can sneak away unnoticed. A few months ago she came to tell me that men were in town with my picture, asking people whether they knew me and if I had a child. I don't know how they had a picture of me or knew I had a child, but I can only assume they wanted to take Freddie from me because they don't think I can care for him."

"I understand why you would have believed that," Zadí kindly said, "but those men were looking for you to help you."

"Why? How would you know that?"

Zadí took a deep breath. "I met Isaac over the summer at the Human Dragon Rider Choosing Ceremony in Ilirea," she began. "My father and mother are—or were—two of the most famous Dragon Riders in Alagaёsia, and I was present for the proceedings. I briefly got acquainted with Isaac early on, but didn't see him again until the Youth Camp began a couple of weeks later. My older brother was a Dragon Rider, and he invited anyone in the crowd to stand against one of the Dragon Riders if they wanted to. Isaac came forward and accepted the challenge. My brother easily brought him into submission, which infuriated Isaac."

The girl rolled her eyes, as if this was no surprise to her.

Zadí continued, "Later that evening, he found me alone. Having learned during the questions and answers that I had no special magical or fighting abilities, he took advantage of that to recover his wounded pride and tried to sexually force himself upon me, as he did you. Before he could succeed, one of my friends—actually, my new husband—prevented him.

"The next day my father and husband's father escorted Isaac to a trial before the high queen. He was found guilty and sentenced to imprisonment for life. During the trial, my brother searched Isaac's mind to learn what he could about the other girls Isaac had assaulted. You were the first, and my brother was unable to learn your name, though he saw your face and made a picture of you. Isaac did the same to seven other girls after you, and the Dragon Riders ensured that his other victims received any help they needed after his treatment of them. My father-in-law was very concerned that Isaac might have unknowingly fathered a child and left the girl living in abject poverty, cast out by those who knew her."

The young woman again had tears in her eyes as Zadí concluded her account, "That is how I know the men only wanted to help. But perhaps we now can where they could not. Will you let us?"

"How?" the girl repeated. "What could you possibly do to help me?"

"We can start by building you some shelter and giving you new clothes and food. One of my friends is a gifted healer. If you would allow her, she could heal your feet and any ailments you or Freddie might be suffering with. But I want to do more. I would try to confirm your story to Isaac's father and see if he would allow you back into his care. Surely he and Isaac's mother would prefer to have a relationship with their grandson. Would you want that?"

"I would want that for my Freddie," the young woman confirmed. "We barely survived last winter out here. I think his grandparents would love him."

"And you deserve better too," Zadí insisted. "What happened to you wasn't your fault, and people need to know that you were not to blame."

"I don't know how you'll convince them," the girl warned.

"I have a few ideas," Zadí said. "But would you be willing to meet my friends? I would imagine that Var, my husband, is getting quite worried by how long I've been gone."

"I will meet them," the young woman agreed.

Zadí stood, promising, "Then I will return shortly."

As she turned to go, the girl called after her, "Oh, and Zadí?" Zadí stopped and questioningly glanced over her shoulder. "My name is Sara."

* * *

 **A/N:** After the last chapter, one reviewer asked about upcoming action versus more "filler" chapters. I answered you directly with a PM, my friend, in case you didn't see, but I just want to let people know that there won't be lots of fighting or a big confrontation for some time. Sorry if you're only reading with the expectation of seeing that kind of action. You'll notice that I categorized this story as an Adventure/Family, not an Action, and I am hoping I accurately labeled it. I guess that sort of writing is not really my forte, nor what I love most in a story. I have to work a lot harder to set the mood for such scenes and to make the action exciting and intense. There is a lot of that at the end of Part Two, which I'm am almost finished writing (it looks like it will be about 45 chapters total), and I hope you will find it satisfying and enjoyable. But I dedicate some time here to this drama. In my mind, it was equally important to moving the plot along in a meaningful and interesting way. And it also allowed me to make some connections with previous events in the story, which I never expected to do when first writing about Isaac back in Part One. Sorry if my story isn't exactly what you want. I highly encourage any potentially dissatisfied readers to write their own story, complete with all of the types of scenes you most enjoy! :)


	86. Part II 32 Helping the Helpless

**32\. Helping the Helpless**

Zadí quickly made her way back to her eight friends, who were huddled together in their blankets. The wind was much stronger on the open beach than it had been in Sara's niche between the hills.

"Everyone come with me," Zadí briskly requested as Var stood and wrapped her in a blanket. "I just met the first girl Isaac assaulted and her son Freddie. We need to help them." Then she looked up into Var's concerned face and smiled. "Thank you, sweetheart." He returned the smile, putting his arm around her shoulders and walking beside her as she led her friends back to Sara.

Everyone except for Var hung back as they approached the solitary young woman, still cradling her small son in her lap.

"I'm back," Zadí began. "My friends are with me now. This is my husband Var. Var, this is Sara. Her son's name is Freddie."

"Pleased to meet you, Sara," Var gently said, apparently aware of how his appearance was affecting the young woman. "Don't worry about standing up. I wouldn't want to disturb your son." Then he swung the pack on his back around to one side and began untying the tent. "I'm going to start setting this up for her," he murmured to Zadí, moving a short distance away and doing just that.

The others, led by Brom, then slowly made their way forward, and Zadí introduced each in turn. "Sara, this is my older brother Brom. This is Brin. This is Var's twin brother Will. The two elves are also siblings. Nefin is older, Hanna the younger. And this is Keeta and Ajh . . ." she finished, trailing off at Sara's overwhelmed look.

"You needn't remember everyone right now," Zadí comforted. "Once Var has that tent set up, we'll make sure you can get right to sleep. I'm sure you must be exhausted. Do you need anything more to eat or drink before then?"

"I wouldn't turn it down," Sara faintly said.

Hanna and Zadí immediately approached her. In a soothing tone Hanna said, "Hello, Sara. I'm Hanna. I know how to use magic to heal. Would you allow me to heal your feet?" As she knelt in front of the dazed young woman, Hanna withdrew one of her concentrated snack bars from her pouch and offered it to her.

Sara accepted and began eating. After swallowing her first bite, she answered, "How would that work?"

"I would sing words in the ancient language to direct your body to rapidly heal itself. The sensations might be mildly uncomfortable, but when done, your feet would be whole and sound."

"Can you do Freddie first?" Sara asked with tears in her eyes.

"Of course," Hanna softly agreed.

Sara pulled away the thin material covering her young son's small feet. When Hanna noticed how dirty they were, she turned and said to Ajh, "Ajh, will you bring a bowl and some water? I want to wash his feet to remove the dirt and sand before healing them."

"It won't be cold, will it?" Sara worried.

"I will warm it," Hanna promised.

Ajh came over, kneeling slightly behind Hanna and smiling kindly at Sara. "How do you do, miss? My name is Ajh." He pulled a bowl from his pack of kitchen supplies and filled it with water from his canteen.

As Hanna began her ministrations to the small boy, who remained deeply asleep, Sara questioned, "As in, the firstborn son of the high queen? That Ajh?"

Ajh quietly laughed. "I didn't expect to be known by name so far from home. But yes, I suppose so. My mother is the high queen."

When Hanna had Freddie's feet clean, she glanced at Sara's face. "I'm ready to begin healing. Do you imagine that he will stay asleep?"

"It might be uncomfortable?" Sara repeated.

"Yes, slightly."

"He's less likely to be bothered if I nurse him," the young woman awkwardly said. "Would that be a problem?"

"Not at all," Hanna reassured. "All of us have many younger siblings and have seen such an activity innumerable times. Even the boys, though they won't observe if you would be more comfortable."

Sara shrugged, but the boys all busied themselves in other ways just in case. Will had already begun helping Var, and they had the tent erected. They moved on to the next tent while Brom and Nefin distanced themselves from the fire enough to perform similar activities so the whole group would have a place to sleep that night. Ajh turned to the fire, stoking it and adding some wood.

Brin asked, "Is there freshwater near? Keeta and I can go fetch some."

Sara pointed behind herself and said, "A little ways beyond this hill there is a small spring."

"I'll go too," Ajh volunteered. "Shall I refill you water skins?"

Zadí handed hers to Ajh, but Hanna said, "Mine is still nearly full. I'll keep it for Sara."

As the others headed off, Sara then began nursing her son, who willingly cooperated though still asleep.

"It's wonderful you continue to nurse him," Zadí said while Hanna began softly singing, lightly grasping the boy's small feet in her hands.

"I'm only grateful I can," Sara said. "I think it's the only reason he has survived out here. We don't have the greatest food, but at least he's getting some nourishment. Sometimes I'm surprised I keep making milk since I am so often hungry."

"You're a good mother, Sara," Zadí encouraged. "I will do my best to ensure that you get the support you need to give your son the upbringing he deserves."

"Thank you," Sara whispered.

When Hanna finished healing Freddie's feet, she once again asked Sara for permission to heal hers.

"But they're so dirty," Sara ashamedly protested. "I'm embarrassed."

"I can wash them," Hanna soothed. "Then we'll give you stocking and boots so they stay warm and clean."

"If you don't mind," Sara relented, shifting around until her feet were more accessible.

Hanna repeated her efforts with Sara, finishing around the same time that everyone else completed their various tasks of making camp for the night.

Var then returned to Zadí's side. Crouching down, he informed, "That tent is ready for you to use tonight, Sara. I have made it as comfortable as I can for you and Freddie. Is there anything else you need before going to sleep? If you would like, I can help you over or even carry you."

Sara warily smiled, clearly unaccustomed to such chivalry. "Now that my feet are so healthy, I'm sure I'll be able to manage. But thank you . . ."

"Var," he supplied.

"Var," Sara repeated. "Thank you. And I don't think I need anything else. I'm warmer and more content than I have been in a long while. Thank you too, Hanna and Zadí."

Hanna smiled. "We will help you get cleaned up in the morning. And I will have some clothes and shoes for you and your son."

Var still insisted on helping as Sara clumsily began to rise. No one had noticed before how skeletal her frame was, but it was abundantly clear once she was standing.

"Sleep as long as you want," Zadí invited, walking by Sara's other side as Var supported her over to the tent. "You and Freddie will have a nice breakfast in the morning."

Sara inclined her head in distracted acknowledgement, and Zadí guessed that Sara suspected she had fallen into a strange dream sitting by her fire and didn't expect any of them to still be there in the morning.

Zadí accompanied the exhausted mother into the tent and helped her crawl into the sleeping bag. Satisfied Sara and Freddie were warm and comfortable, Zadí quietly left and rejoined her friends.

Var was waiting right by the tent door, and she took his hand. "Thank you for your thoughtfulness, Var. You're a good man."

As they began walking back to the fire where the others had gathered, Var replied, "I couldn't help but think what if that had been you. Did you notice how alike you look? Her skin tone was slightly different, but maybe that was just dirt. Dark hair, light eyes, and similar facial structure. I can't believe we accidentally stumbled across Isaac's first victim when she was the only one they couldn't find before."

Zadí nodded. "But I'm so grateful. I hope we can do more to help her. I have an idea, but I want to discuss it with everyone else too."

They sat down with their companions, who were eating the snack Ajh had prepared. He offered the bowl to them. Var took it and helped himself, but Zadí passed so she could talk.

"Thank you, everyone," she began. "I think Sara believes she might have dreamed this tonight, but tomorrow morning will reassure her that we're real. I know we can help her by feeding and clothing her, but I want to try to do more. Let me tell you what she shared with me before you arrived."

Once Zadí finished her account, she continued, "I want to approach this innkeeper, Frederick, and see if I can encourage him to finally believe Sara's story. If he would, perhaps he would also allow her to return to the inn where she worked for him before. Brom, I think it would help if I had a fairth of Isaac to verify my claims. But Sara was adamant that the townspeople would not welcome anyone else in this group. I think this is still going to be up to me. Does anyone object if I make the attempt tomorrow morning?"

"Do you have to go alone?" Var asked in concern.

"I think I had best enter town alone," Zadí confirmed. "I suppose someone could walk down there with me. I hate how this is going to sound, but I wouldn't want to rouse their suspicions if someone saw me with one of you and immediately mistrusted me. I'm hoping I might be able to persuade this innkeeper to meet you, if I can befriend him quickly enough."

"Var, I'll keep my mind in close contact with Zadí's," Brom reassured. "I won't let anything bad happen to her, but you know how quickly she can win people."

"Yes," Var agreed. "I trust you. Will and I can build some sort of temporary shelter for Sara and Freddie until such time as she may be able to return to town. Will, is it a problem if we spend some time here helping her."

"Not at all, Var," his brother firmly said. "She needs help, and we can give it. Isn't that what we Dragon Riders do?" Var nodded.

Ajh then promised, "I'll make sure Sara and her son eat like royalty as long as we're with them."

"And I'm already working on clothes and shoes," Hanna contributed, not looking away from her project. "Some of our clothes would likely work for her, Zadí, though I might have to take them in a bit."

"You can alter mine for the boy," Keeta offered with a faint grin. Nefin quietly chuckled.

Hanna glanced up and smiled. "We'll come up with something. I can make him clothes from one of the blankets and shoes or boots using pieces from ours."

"Well, let's not stay up too late," Brom suggested. "Walking against the wind through the sand all day was exhausting. We can start on all of these efforts first thing in the morning."

The group retired soon after.


	87. Part II 33 Zadí's Talent

**33\. Zadí's Talent**

Zadí awoke the next morning to delicious smells filling the whole camp. Var's arms were snugly around her as she nestled into his side. She smiled. Being married was the greatest thing she had ever experienced. Just as she had often anticipated, Var was the kindest husband. And she loved being able to snuggle with him every night now. He always kept her warm.

But on this particular morning, Zadí was actually anxious to leave Var's embrace and start the day, for she had a job to do. Here was her first opportunity to further the group's goals using her special talent, and Zadí wanted to prove her worth.

Zadí began scooching out of the sleeping bag they somehow crammed themselves into, stopping when her face was level with Var's to gently kiss his lips.

"Wake up, sleepy head," she murmured.

Var smiled before he spoke, raising his hand to keep her head in place so he could kiss her again. Then he surprised her by quickly sitting and taking her up with him. Var stretched mightily as the sleeping bag slid down around their waists, groaning theatrically to make her giggle.

"Who're ya callin' sleepyhead," Var slurred, and Zadí laughed again.

"You, silly. You would agree if you could see your hair." She combed her fingers through his disheveled, shoulder-length hair to smooth it down. "But let's get up! It smells like Ajh already has breakfast going, and I'm hungry! More importantly, however, is that I'm worried Sara will awaken and panic. I want to be out there when she emerges from her tent."

Var grumbled good-naturedly but began to arise. Zadí then ran her hands through her hair and asked, "How do I look?"

"Beautiful," Var simply said. "As always. It's easier to get going in the morning when we're already dressed, isn't it?"

"Yep," Zadí agreed. "So let's go."

They ducked out of their tent to find only Ajh and Hanna awake. Ajh was moving about his small cook area, humming a cheerful tune while he busily readied breakfast. Hanna looked as if she hadn't moved all night.

"Did you get any sleep?" Zadí cried.

"A few hours," Hanna answered. "I don't need much more if I don't want it, and what I wanted more than sleep last night was to make sure we had clean, warm clothes to dress Sara and Freddie in after we help them bathe."

"You're so good, Hanna," Zadí admired.

"They have been stirring in there," Hanna then informed. "I sometimes heard Sara speak to her son last night. It was so precious hearing a two-year-old talk again. But it made me miss Meri and the other little ones."

"Yes, I thought of Ari when I was first observing Freddie. I hope they're doing all right back on the Isle."

Hanna nodded, returning to her magical sewing.

The others began appearing before long, following their noses like Zadí had. Ajh's breakfasts always smelled amazing, even if only simple oatmeal or biscuits. But today he had outdone himself, making sure Sara and Freddie would enjoy a filling hot meal for the first time in no one knew how long.

Brom and Will exited their tent. Zadí was unsurprised when Nefin returned to camp from the mountains, rather than through the doorway of the tent he shared with Ajh. She guessed that he must have likewise used his elven abilities to sleep very little and done some scouting earlier that morning. But when he approached Ajh with a full pack and opened it to reveal a variety of fresh edible plants, Zadí saw he had been doing more.

"Excellent," Ajh approved. "Thank you, Nefin. It will be nice to eat some fresh greens again. And fruit!"

Nefin nodded, turning away from Ajh as their last two companions sleepily emerged from their tent.

Brin ducked out the door after Keeta stumbled through, both yawning and rubbing their eyes. Brom and Nefin grinned at their manner, which the females completely missed.

"Morning, y'all," Ajh greeted. "Tuck in, then. Best while it's hot."

No one hesitated. According to their usual habit, the boys allowed the ladies to go first, and they were all eagerly eating when they began to hear speaking from the last inhabited tent.

"Mama, what's this?" questioned a small voice clearly belonging to Freddie.

"A tent, darling," was Sara's reply.

"My feet all better?"

"Yes, Freddie. Isn't that wonderful?"

"Yay!" the little boy cried. "Freddie run now?"

"You certainly may."

"But me hungry," he matter-of-factly stated.

"Shall we eat something?"

"Yes. What's dat smell?"

"Smells like yummy food. Mama met some friends last night, Freddie. They helped your feet and let us sleep in this tent. I think they made breakfast. Shall we find out?"

"Yay!" Freddie repeated. "How we get out?"

"Like this," Sara explained, beginning to untie the tent door. She followed her voice out, clutching a blanket around her shoulders with one hand and holding her son's hand in the other. He shyly hung back behind his mother as she emerged, obviously very unaccustomed to strangers.

"Good morning, Sara," Zadí said, setting down her plate to approach the newcomers. Freddie peered up at her from wide blue eyes like his mother's. "Hello, Freddie," Zadí softly said with her warmest smile. "My name is Zadí. It's nice to meet you."

The boy remained silent, though he continued to curiously stare at Zadí.

"Sorry," Sara apologized. "I'm afraid he's never had cause to learn how to greet people."

"No matter," Zadí insisted. "Would you like something to eat?" She guided Sara toward the food, helping her serve herself and Freddie some breakfast.

"Me go potty," Freddie helpfully informed.

"Of course, darling," Sara said. "Let's run over to the bushes before we start eating."

They soon returned, and Freddie started to eat with relish. Sara did the same, accepting the seconds and thirds Ajh offered her.

When they finished eating, Hanna and Zadí followed Sara and Freddie to the stream to help them bathe with soap and shampoo. They found an area where Hanna created a small pool in the water, which she warmed with magic so those washing would be comfortable.

Since Sara seemed embarrassed to let the two see her, Hanna and Zadí gave the young mother all of the necessary supplies and some privacy, sitting a short ways off while she and her son cleaned up.

They told her not to hurry, so a while later Sara called that she was finished. Hanna and Zadí rejoined her, amazed by the transformation in appearance of both mother and son. Though still wet, their hair was now clean. Layers of dirt were gone from their hands and faces, and their skin glowed from the warmth of the water and gentle scrubbing.

Hanna's newly tailored clothing fit perfectly, though Zadí could see that she had made Sara's dress in such a way as to disguise her gaunt figure. Freddie proudly marched about in a soft shirt, comfortable leggings, sturdy boots, and warm coat.

Sara's eyes glistened with tears as the two girls stopped in front of her. "Thank you," she whispered. "I haven't felt this clean and comfortable in years. Wearing stockings and solid shoes feels amazing. And the dress is so soft, the coat so warm. Freddie has never had anything new and made just for him. Thank you."

Hanna hugged her then offered to dry and brush her hair. Zadí combed Freddie's hair after Hanna dried it with magic. Then Hanna gave them both a trim also using magic. Just as Zadí had guessed the night before, Sara's dark brown hair was thick and shining when clean and brushed.

"You look lovely," Hanna complimented Sara when they were ready to return to the camp.

"And you are handsome indeed, young Freddie," Zadí praised. "Does it feel nice to be clean?"

"Yes," Freddie affirmed in his sweet young voice. "Thank you, Miss Zadí."

Zadí smiled. "Thank Hanna, sweetie. She did most of the work."

"Can we burn this old stuff?" Sara asked, nudging the pile of filthy rags they had worn with the toe of her boot. "I don't even want to touch it now that I'm clean. I kept that blanket around me when I came out earlier because my clothing was so ragged that I was worried about my modesty in front of the men. But the blanket is yours. I'm sure it would be fine again after being cleaned."

"If it makes you feel better, we will clean it," Hanna said. "But it's yours now. And we certainly can dispose of the old clothing. Let's go back to the others now so Zadí can be on her way."

When Sara looked confused by this statement, Zadí explained what she hoped to accomplish that day.

"Be prepared for anything with Frederick," Sara warned. "Though he is usually kind, I have also seen other sides of his personality. I honestly don't know what you might expect. But after what you told me last night about finding horses, I did want to say that he might be your only chance for success. I guess you'll have to work that out with him if you are able to talk with him."

Zadí thanked her for this information, though she was curious about Sara's meaning, and set off not long after with Brom as an escort. Var obviously wanted to walk with her, but Sara apologetically recommended that it would be better for someone who looked like Var not to be seen anywhere near the village. Brom was able to hide the tips of his pointed ears under his curly hair so his appearance wouldn't be as foreign if any villagers happened to spot him. However, he only intended to walk with Zadí to the outskirts of town so she wouldn't have to travel the several miles alone. There he would wait and keep mental watch from a distance to ensure her safety.

Their brisk stroll was lovely indeed. Salty air floated in off the ocean, heralding a vibrant fall day. The foothills through which they walked were ablaze with autumn's finest colors—brilliant oranges, reds, and yellows. Seabirds circled and called overhead, whooshing about in playful games. Others self-importantly pecked at the sand as gentle waves rolled in and out on the beach.

When they reached their predetermined parting location, Zadí gave her older brother a cheerful smile and continued on her own. The town lay not directly adjacent the ocean, but just over the Spine's lowest southeastern slopes, through which Zadí and Brom had just trekked. It was humble but neat, and its occupants seemed to share the same traits.

Zadí identified a smithy, tannery, and mill as she walked, among many other small dwellings surrounded by gardens and animal pens. Villagers scurried about on the streets, industriously going about their daily routines. Zadí quickly saw that people here were indeed wary of outsiders, as their furtive glances clearly communicated. So rather than smiling brightly at everyone, Zadí simply kept a pleasant expression on her face, calmly meeting the gaze of anyone who looked at her.

With Sara's instructions to guide her, Zadí made her way directly to the inn. She wasn't quite able to identify how she felt about meeting Isaac's father, but she did her best to keep a clear head as she mounted the steps to the main entrance. Once on the porch and before entering, she peered through the window just left of the door to see if she could discover any activity inside.

Zadí was somewhat surprised to observe a man standing in the scullery beyond the bar at a sink full of dishes, elbow-deep in sudsy water. She could only presume this was Frederick himself, but she hadn't expected to find him thus engaged. With nothing else to do, Zadí quietly opened the door and let herself in.

As it swung shut behind her, the muffled thump alerted Frederick to her presence. But the man didn't turn to greet Zadí. He remained where he was, his back to her, and gruffly called, "We're closed to new business. Keep looking."

Zadí raised her eyebrows as this brusque manner, but silently crossed the room all the same. When she stopped at the bar, Frederick still hadn't turned, and Zadí was even more surprised when the man loudly sniffed and raised one soapy hand enough to wipe his nose with the back of his arm. Was he weeping?

As he lowered his hand, Zadí noticed how raw and wrinkled it looked. Though the stacks of clean dishes to his right appeared large, the pile of remaining dirty ones at his left was larger still. Why was the innkeeper himself slaving away in the scullery of his own inn? Did he not have help for this menial task? His stooped posture struck Zadí—hunched shoulders and bowed head.

Zadí skirted the bar and approached the man, stopping by his left side and clearing her throat.

Frederick jumped and exclaimed, "Didn't I just—"

Zadí gently laid her hand on his arm. "I'm not seeking lodging, kind sir. I would help if I may. You seem weary and downtrodden. Your hands are raw. Let me wash for a time and you have a turn drying."

Without awaiting permission, she removed the brush from his hand and took the next dish from the dirty stack, plunging it into the bubbles below. "I'm Zadí," she said. "Are you the innkeeper?"

"Aye," he presently replied, clearly astonished by Zadí's unexpected intrusion. "Name's Frederick."

"Pleased to meet you, Frederick." Zadí rinsed the dish and handed it to him. He mechanically accepted it. "I admit that I was somewhat surprised to see the innkeeper attending to this task. Have you not any help?"

"No," the man shortly responded. "Had to send them all away. Bad times I've had."

"I'm so sorry," Zadí earnestly said. "May I ask why? This is a lovely inn. I would have guessed such a place would attract much business."

"It does. But I haven't the means to provide food for guests, nor the ability to run the place alone, which has also led to the inn's gradual deterioration."

"Why did you dismiss your help?"

"Couldn't pay 'em," the innkeeper answered. "Not even in goods. All that's left are the horses, though they'll soon have to go. I've held onto them this long only for the missus. But when she's gone too, won't make no difference when I sell her dear friends." He sniffed again, pulling a handkerchief from his shirt pocket and noisily blowing his nose.

"The horses are your wife's?" Zadí tentatively postulated, unsure she had understood the man's jumbled words. She began washing another pot.

"Aye. Couldn't have children, so I gave the missus her next dearest wish. Horses. Always loved 'em, she has. And right fine beasts they are, if I may say. But mighty costly. Drained my fortune keeping up those animals, and now we've nothing to show for it and Marta's on her deathbed." Frederick wetly bawled, honking once more into his kerchief.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Frederick. So you haven't any children and your wife might soon pass?"

"No children of our own, but we adopted a boy when he was 'bout five. An orphan boy who showed up in town begging for food. Marta couldn't bear to see him suffer, and she so longed for a child that we took him in and raised him as our own."

Frederick again whipped out his handkerchief, dabbing his eyes and nose. "Fat lotta good that did," he bitterly continued. "Twas on Isaac's account that Marta fell ill. Heard from Ilirea some months back that the scoundrel—we paid for the finest education so he might do anything he pleased for a living!—was imprisoned for assaulting young girls. Wasting his inheritance on drinking and women. Bah! Bad enough that was, but not the worst. Nah, not even close. For now we know her story was true! Yet we turned her out on the streets, poor dear. She had to bear her burden alone, and for all we know she and the baby died. That girl was like our true daughter, and we was so pleased when it seemed she and Isaac might marry."

"How trying that must have been after the kindness you showed your son by taking him in and raising him," Zadí compassionately consoled. She didn't want to rouse any suspicions by asking Frederick what he meant about the girl and baby, especially since she already knew.

Zadí was surprised and encouraged. Her task here might not be as difficult as she had imagined. It sounded like Frederick and his wife regretted their actions when they had condemned Sara and cast her out. If they learned that she and Freddie were alive, they would most likely be overjoyed.

And not only that, here was another opportunity for Zadí and her friends to offer their unique gifts. The inn and stables, though obviously once fine, were in clear need of repair. And if learning that Sara and Freddie were alive did not fully cure Frederick's wife, perhaps Hanna's abilities would fill the gap. Frederick might even consent to trading the horses for these services. But was he one of the townspeople biased against non-humans? Isaac certainly had been, and perhaps he had learned such views from his father.

Zadí determined to discover what she could while the innkeeper was freely conversing with her. As she finished scrubbing yet another dish and handing it to Frederick, she remarked, "On my way into town, the other villagers seemed wary. Yet you have been open and kind. Do you see many outsiders this far south?"

"Not many. Sometimes the odd sailor or two. The townspeople are particular 'bout who they'll let come around. Most of us came this direction to distance ourselves from the other races in the land. We're far from elves and dwarves here. And those beastly Urgals. Can't abide their kind, no sir. Monsters they are."

"I know some still share your opinion. But why do you say that, Frederick? Did you have a personal experience to shape your feelings?"

Frederick's face darkened. "I'm not from here, Zadí. When I was 'bout fifteen, my family lived in Yazuac. That winter I was staying in Daret, prenticing with my uncle. But when word reached me that my mother had given birth to a new baby brother, I journeyed home to visit my family. I arrived to find the village massacred, every living soul slaughtered, courtesy of the Urgals. Their bodies were heaped up in the town square, an infant body skewered at the top. My new baby brother. I fled the horrifying scene, mind you, hoping that if I ran far and fast enough, I might forget the nightmare. But the images still haunt me."

"How awful," Zadí murmured, uncertain what to add. Frederick was the same age as her father, who had stumbled upon the exact village that same winter at fifteen years old. No wonder the innkeeper hated Urgals. And how would she ever convince him to let Brin, Var, or Will anywhere near his inn?

Zadí knew the story of how Aunt Willow—now her mother-in-law—had persuaded an innkeeper in Yazuac to let Uncle Varhog stay in town. But that man hadn't lost his whole family in the massacre, as Frederick had.

Her overly long pause must have given Frederick time to think, for he suddenly said, "Here I've been rattlin' on and on without letting you have a turn. How selfish of me! You're clearly not from 'round here. What brings you to this humble town, Zadí?"

Zadí decided she had best be honest and tell as much of the full truth as Frederick needed to know. "I am traveling with a group of friends. We're searching for another of our friends, who was kidnapped. Up until a few days ago, we were sailing northwest, but we had to change directions and anchor the ship so we could travel over land for a time. We walked down the beach, hoping to find a town where we might buy some horses to speed our journey."

Frederick glanced over at her. "I see. And where are these friends of yours?"

"Waiting for me. We met someone who warned us that most of them wouldn't be welcome in this village, so I volunteered to come since I look the most like a human."

"Most like a human? Aren't you a human? And who would you have met up the beach to tell you such a thing? No one lives out that way."

"I'm actually only part human. My mother is an elf. I guess I inherited many of my father's human traits. Last night we met a girl living alone on the beach with her son. Frederick, she told me her name is Sara. And her two-year-old son is called Freddie, short for Frederick, after the only man who was ever like a father to her. Those were her words. Could this be the same girl you just mentioned?"

Frederick dropped the dish he was drying. It clattered into the sink below. "Can it be? It must! Sara is alive! And her baby a son, named after me! Is she well?"

"They are better than before. We fed them, made them clean clothing, and healed some of their sores. But Sara is concerned about surviving the winter. Part of why I came here today was to find out if you still felt the same as you did when you learned Sara was pregnant. I intended to confirm her story, for I have also met Isaac and he attempted to do the same to me as he did to Sara. That happened earlier this summer in Ilirea. After his trial the next day, the high queen sentenced him to imprisonment for life, which news you received from her messengers."

Frederick was now gripping the edge of the sink in front of him. "You met my son?"

"Yes, at the Dragon Rider Choosing Ceremony. I was there because my parents and many of my friends were Dragon Riders."

"Zadí, your story is sounding more far-fetched by the moment. How can I know you're telling the truth?"

"I have a picture of Isaac, which my older brother made from a memory I had of him. Would that help?"

Frederick nodded curtly, so Zadí shook the excess water off her hands and reached into her pouch to withdraw the fairth. She held it up for the innkeeper to observe. He set his towel aside and took the slate from her. Zadí had chosen one of her first memories of Isaac, when he had been pleasant and seemed almost handsome, sure that would be a better image to show his family than the ugly criminal she encountered later on.

"That's him all right," Frederick verified, returning the fairth. "But I don't want it. I suppose I still feel some affection for the boy. Seemed a decent fellow while he lived here. But now that I know the path he took, I'm ashamed. Although perhaps he turned out that way because of me." He wearily rubbed his eyes, releasing a heavy sigh.

Then he continued, "Zadí, I would go to Sara and bring her back to my inn. It would do my Marta some good to see that the girl and her baby survived. Guilt has been eating at her these past many months. Would you show me where they are? I can harness a couple o' the horses to my wagon."

"I would be happy to do that, Frederick. But I confess that I'm slightly apprehensive about how you will react when you meet my friends. One of them is a full-blooded Urgal. Two are part human, part Urgal. Those two are identical twin brothers, one of whom is my husband. Two are elves, one a dwarf. That is why I came here alone. Even my older brother looks more like an elf. I guess he took after our mother."

Frederick was silent for a long moment. "Sounds like a mixed group. Do the races usually interact so readily? We're quite isolated way down here, so maybe things are different closer to the capitol. But I never heard such a thing before."

"We grew up together," Zadí answered. "All of our parents were Dragon Riders, and one of the Riders' purposes is to unite the races in peace. My father is Eragon Shadeslayer, and he extended the pact to include dwarves and Urgals. My father-in-law was the first Urgal Rider. Interacting with the various races is very natural for me and my friends, but I can understand why the idea is still foreign to you. Isaac shared your bias toward the other races."

Frederick's brow creased. "After hearing what y'all did to help Sara, I'm curious to meet this diverse group. I can't promise that I'll be thrilled, but I will do my best to be cordial. I can see how Isaac would have learned such views from me, and I doubt that's the best legacy to pass on. There's something about you, Zadí. I feel I can trust you, and if you're friends with a few Urgals, elves, and dwarves—even married to one!—maybe these particular ones aren't so bad. And thank you for helping me finish these dishes. After weeks of letting them pile up, I finally made myself attend to them, though I didn't want to with how the missus been feelin'."

Zadí smiled, and Frederick automatically returned it. They dried their hands and went out to the stables. Frederick owned ten beautiful horses, all healthy and strong.

As Frederick hitched up the wagon, Zadí mentally communicated with Brom, _The innkeeper wants to go pick up Sara and Freddie. He has invited me to ride with him in his wagon to show him the way. Maybe you can go on ahead and let the others know to expect us. Thanks for keeping an eye on me._

Brom responded, _You're amazing, little sister. Keep working your special magic. See you back at the camp in a little while._


	88. Part II 34 Making a Difference

**34\. Making a Difference**

Zadí and Frederick arrived at Sara's secluded nook before long. Without much else to do, Ajh had begun preparations for an early lunch. With Hanna and Nefin's help to smooth out the wood, Will and Var had already managed to construct a crude shelter for Sara and Freddie, which most likely would no longer be necessary. Using a map as reference, Keeta and Brin were attempting to determine the length of their travels and the needed supplies.

Sara was helping Ajh while Freddie played around Will and Var, who delighted in the young boy as much as the rest of them. When Zadí walked into camp with Frederick closely trailing behind, Var was stomping about with Freddie on his shoulders. The little fellow clung to Var's horns, squealing for joy during his thrilling ride.

Var halted his charges by Zadí, reaching down for her hand. "I'm glad you're safe, sweetie," he greeted, lifting her hand to kiss the back of it. "Freddie and I have been having a grand time."

"I can see that," Zadí replied, smiling. "Var, I would like to introduce Frederick, the town innkeeper."

Frederick was glancing between Sara, who had paused in her efforts of helping Ajh to stare at the middle-aged man, and Freddie upon Var's shoulders. The innkeeper looked both cautious and hopeful, and then he started slightly as he realized that Zadí had just introduced him to someone.

"Bu—be—beg your pardon," he stammered. "Frederick Marcsson at your service." He extended his hand then dropped it, jumping more forcefully as he finally focused on Var and realized he had almost shaken hands with a man who appeared so much like an Urgal.

Var smiled pleasantly and also lowered his extended hand, not at all offended. "Pleased to meet you, sir. Would you like to meet Freddie?" Var swung the boy off his shoulders and held him in his arms. "Freddie, this man's name is Frederick. Did you know you're named after him?"

Freddie shook his head, his blue eyes wide and solemn.

"Say hello," Var encouraged.

"Hello," Freddie obediently repeated.

Frederick's eyes filled with tears. "Hello," he faintly echoed. "How glad I am to meet you, young man." He pulled out his well-used handkerchief and dabbed at his face. "Would you take me to your mother?"

The boy eagerly nodded, running over to Sara after Var set him down. "Here's mama," he proudly stated.

Frederick followed after, stopping a few steps away from Sara. He gravely regarded her for a moment before slowly kneeling on the ground. "Dear girl," he softly began, "I'm so sorry. So awfully sorry. We should have believed you. Turning you out is our greatest regret, Marta's and mine. Can you ever forgive me? Will you please forgive me, sweet Sara?"

Sara also began to weep, but she didn't hesitate to approach Frederick and rest a hand on his shoulder. "You had only my word to rely on and wanted to believe the best of your son. I forgive you, Frederick. But please let me come home. I'm worried for my Freddie. I only stayed away so long for fear of what might happen to him if I tried to return. It wasn't his fault he came into the world as he did."

Frederick arose to his feet and pulled Sara into a gentle embrace. "And I didn't come sooner because I thought surely you had died and we never heard any rumors to suggest otherwise. I'm relieved I was wrong. I would like nothing more than to have you and Freddie return with me to the inn. Marta'll be thrilled to have a daughter and grandbaby all at once. I'm so honored you named him after me."

"Thank you," Sara whispered. "And these nine have been so kind to us. Won't you also allow them to come for a time?"

Frederick's brow creased worriedly. "You know 'swell as I how the villagers would react. But perhaps 'tis time to soften old prejudices. I might set a better example than I have in times past. Maybe I'll yet redeem myself of my stubborn blindness."

So after eating Ajh's fine lunch, the nine youth hurriedly broke camp and loaded the wood from Sara's very temporary shelter into Frederick's wagon. The twins explained that they could reuse it for repairs to his inn and stables.

Keeta sat in the back of the wagon with Freddie and Sara while the others walked around it. Keeta entertained the lad by allowing him to scribble on some of her blank parchment, and the boy was elated by his new discovery.

-:-:-

When they reached the inn, Frederick ushered his guests inside so he could face the crowd of curious villagers who had followed and now sought an explanation for the diverse company they had seen trooping through town.

Frederick did his best to quickly describe the reasons ten young people and one small child were now staying at his inn. Then he rejoined his visitors inside and swiftly fetched his wife. The sickly woman slowly made her way down to the main room of the inn, heavily leaning on her husband for support.

Frederick stopped her in front of Sara and Freddie, and Marta's face filled with joy and relief.

"You're alive," Marta breathed, placing her hands on Sara's cheeks. "How grateful I am. I thought you had surely died, and that fate—the guilt of thinking I condemned you to death after learning of your innocence—has nearly sent me to my grave. Won't you forgive us, Sara? Won't you stay with us again and let us try to make it up to you?"

Sara silently nodded. But Freddie asked, "Mama, who 'dis?"

"You can call her grandma, Freddie," Sara said.

Marta's eye brimmed with tears. "May I hold you, Freddie? Would you come to grandma?"

The boy cautiously looked at his mother, and Sara nodded encouragingly, so Freddie trustingly extended his arms and Marta accepted him. "Hello, sweetheart," the older woman greeted, giving him a hug. "I'm so happy to meet you. You and mama can stay here in this nice warm inn and have a comfortable bed to sleep in and eat plenty of good food and run and play all around. Would you like that?"

Freddie nodded with bright eyes. "Wonderful," Marta approved. "Let's find you some toys. Have you ever seen a book? I shall read you some with lovely pictures." She shifted the boy to one arm, already appearing remarkably improved in only the few minutes she had been downstairs, and took Sara by one hand. They walked to a corner at the back of the room where some toys and books for young children were stored. Marta sat on the sofa, inviting Sara down with her and letting Freddie explore the treasures.

-:-:-

The nine traveling youth spent the rest of that day discussing with Frederick how they could help him recover his business. The boys offered to repair and restore the main house and all outbuildings, and the girls promised to clean the entire place from cellar to attic, including washing all the laundry.

When Frederick worried about compensating them for these efforts, the friends insisted that they didn't want pay but would be willing to trade their services for the use of some of Marta's fine horses, if she could bear to part with them for a time. Marta readily agreed, knowing her horses were a drain on her husband's livelihood.

The innkeeper also fretted that he wouldn't have the goods to feed his guests while they stayed, but Zadí and her friends assured him that this also wouldn't be a problem. They asked if they could borrow his horses and wagons to make a short trip up the beach, which proposal Frederick gladly accepted.

They rode up the beach to the ship and loaded all of the chickens and supplies into Frederick's wagons. They planned to pack what they would need for their own travels, allow Frederick to use the stock to start receiving guests in his inn until he could afford new goods, and store whatever remained for when they passed back through the village to return to the ship.

The youth assumed they would eventually need their vessel to sail back home to the Isle, and they hoped that storing the supplies away from the ship would make it less of a target for hungry animals and that such an arrangement would also preserve the stores from any potential inclement weather. And Hanna, of course, was reassured that their chickens would be well-cared for while they were away.

-:-:-

Their time in the village spanned several weeks. The nine youth did not worry about the delay to their overall objective, for they had been raised to help those in need, which was also one of the Dragon Riders' primary purposes. Though none of the seven former Riders still had their dragons or any of the unique abilities associated with that calling, they nevertheless considered it their duty to help Frederick and his wife. And they saw, as Lena had once eloquently proclaimed to a crowd of young Urgals, that one did not need to be a Dragon Rider to make a difference for good in the land.

Their hard work ethic, good cheer, and selfless service left a favorable impression on all of the villagers, who had never before had opportunity to observe members from every two-legged sentient race cooperate in such friendship and even love.

As the month of their stay came to a close, Frederick's inn and property were in like-new condition. Business had begun to pick up as word circulated that Frederick was again taking in guests. While the nine young people had lived with them, Marta, Sara, and Freddie all enjoyed a full recovery and were perfectly healthy and happy.

Frederick and Marta insisted on preparing one last fine meal before the friends continued on their way. This was a breakfast, for the youth began their journey on a cool, misty morning. Their hosts' most poignant emotion was gratitude for giving them a second chance, with regards to their family life, health, and livelihood. Frederick and Sara paid special tribute to Zadí, who had first bridged the gap between herself and her eight companions and had also allowed the two to experience reconciliation of past mistakes and regrets.

Zadí was also humble and grateful, for she saw that her abilities of befriending and loving people, though perhaps not as outwardly impressive as her friends' magical and fighting skills, were equally as important in the right situation.

-:-:-

Since the youth were anxious to continue searching for Lena and were well-rested from their long sojourn in Frederick's village, their first full day of traveling was robust and productive. After stopping to make camp and eat dinner that evening, Var and Zadí were in their tent preparing to sleep for the night.

Var, who had always seen Zadí's worth, had already offered extensive praise for the role she played in acquiring the horses and helping Sara, Freddie, and the innkeeper.

As they removed their boots and sat down together, Zadí confessed to her husband, "You know, I think having that experience this last month was probably the best form of healing I could ever experience after what happened with Isaac. I no longer feel any negative feelings associated with the incident."

"I'm so glad, sweetie," Var replied.

"If we end up in Ilirea, perhaps we'll discover what has become of Isaac. We could at least take any news back to Frederick as we pass back through and return the horses."

"Yes, we could do that," Var agreed. "What did you ever do with that fairth of Isaac? The one Brom made?"

"Frederick didn't want it, so I asked Sara. She told me that she cared for Isaac and really wanted to marry him before he attacked her. She actually admitted that she initially consented to going along with his desires, but she panicked part way through, worrying that she might get pregnant and again insisting that they marry first. That's when Isaac just went ahead with their plans and forced her to continue. But she decided to keep the fairth for Freddie's sake, just so she could show him what his father looked like in case the time comes that Freddie gets curious and asks questions."

"That makes sense," Var allowed. "Are you ready to rest, Izz?"

Zadí smiled, struggling to quell the nervous fluttering in her gut. "Almost. But first I have something I want to give you. Consider it our six-week anniversary present."

"Really?" Var excitedly exclaimed. "All right. I'm ready."

Zadí removed a folded piece of parchment from her pocket and handed it to Var. "Read it out loud," she instructed.

Var accepted the paper in confusion, staring at her as he unfolded it. Then he looked down and began reading:

"My anniversary gift is special, you see,  
for it's also a present from you to me.

Doesn't make sense? Feeling confused?  
Here's a short riddle to give you a clue:

I'm far while I'm close,  
Not yet here though so near.

Can't be bought by great treasure,  
Will be loved beyond measure,  
And how I began was a moment of pleasure.

When does eighteen of one  
And of another not any  
Mean the same thing  
For a girl not yet twenty?

Still not certain? This surely will do:  
I love you, dear dada, and can't wait to meet you."

Var slowly looked up, a grin spreading across his face. "Izzie, are you pregnant?"

Zadí joyfully nodded, clasping her sweaty hands together. She had never been able to identify why she felt nervous to tell Var, but she had. His reaction was perfect, of course.

He laughed and reached out to grab her, pulling her into his lap and tightly squeezing her against his chest. "That's so wonderful, sweetie!" he cried. "I'm so excited! But tell me what this part of the poem means. 'Eighteen of one and of another not any.'"

Zadí sniffed, rubbing her eyes against his shirt to wipe away her tears. "I ovulated eighteen days ago. Usually I start bleeding fourteen days later, but when four more days passed without menstruation, I knew I was pregnant. So eighteen days past ovulation and no bleeding. That's what it means."

Var laughed again. "Thank you for sharing this with me tonight, Zadí. I'm so excited to be a dada." He kissed the top of her head. "I guess we should try to get some sleep. How have you been feeling? Are you more tired than usual? I probably won't be able to sleep for a while now, but I'll still keep you warm."

Zadí shakily giggled. "I knew you'd be so happy, but I was still nervous to tell you. Don't ask me why. I'm also so excited to be a mother, Var. I've been feeling fine and am a bit more tired than usual, but that could also just be the result of traveling so many miles today after sitting at Frederick's inn for a month."

Var chuckled, shifting around so they could begin to crawl into their sleeping bag. "In about five more months, we might not fit like this anymore. Not with junior in between us."

"Maybe we'll be home by then," Zadí suggested, snuggling into his arms.

"I hope so. Our mothers will probably be just as excited by this news."

"But your mother will have three new babies by then. A grandbaby might not seem that novel in comparison."

"She will be thrilled," Var promised. "And so will your mother. I'll try to be quiet, Izz. I love you, sweetie."

"Love you too, Var," Zadí murmured.

But despite their best efforts, the happy young couple couldn't resist talking for another hour about the excitement their future held. And when they finally did drift off, their dreams were also happy and filled with images of them and their little baby.

-:-:-:-

* * *

 **A/N:** I was originally going to announce my own pregnancy at the end of this chapter, but I already spilled the beans. Only about a month left now until my due date! However, I actually wrote that poem to break the news to my husband way back at the end of September, right after my eighteenth day past ovulation (this is easy to determine when a girl or woman charts her menstrual cycle, as I do). I modified it a bit to fit Zadí, since I'm obviously older than twenty, but I knew I wanted to use the poem in my story too. So there you have it. And we had a long stint with the nine youth here, but I haven't forgotten about the other groups. We'll dive back into someone else next time.


	89. Part II 35 On a Stormy Night

**35\. On a Stormy Night**

Four months after finding themselves stranded on the tropical island, the older generation of former Dragon Riders was finally ready to set sail for the Isle. On the morning that the eight couples planned to depart, Eragon lay tensely in bed with his arms around his wife.

Six weeks of relentless rain had considerably slowed their building efforts. And the elves couldn't do anything to offset the weather. The group's sense of urgency had finally compelled them to use the wood however they could, hoping the uncured pieces wouldn't compromise the soundness of the vessel. They only needed it for a week! And they had completed the hull before the wet season began or the elves' predicament had interfered.

The elves' predicament.

That, of course, weighed most heavily on Eragon's mind. Not the weather. Not how long they had been stuck here. Not the fact that they now had two small infants to travel with. Not Willow's miserable condition expecting triplets. Not Varhog's painful and arduous recovery.

No, none of that mattered to Eragon. At least not as much as the fact that Arya was dying. Eragon had almost been unable to accept the possibility at first. Arya, who always appeared no older than twenty-five even when over a century old, now indeed seemed an elderly woman. Her once coal black hair was streaked with gray and white, the most noticeable strip having appeared during her final prolonged magical effort after the volcano erupted.

Her once smooth honey skin was now wrinkled and thin. But her eyes were the same. Sparkling emeralds. And yet even they now looked old and weary.

Arya had fretted that Eragon might be repulsed by her rapid decline into old age. Ridiculous woman. Of course he hadn't cared. He had joked that once anyone reached fifty, which he would on his next birthday, age didn't matter anymore anyway. And he was starting to look more like a fifty-year-old man too, most likely due to his constant worrying for Arya.

As painful as it had been to lose Saphira, Eragon had survived it because he still had Arya. But if he also lost Arya, Eragon was sure he wouldn't be able to bear it. And this was the real reason Eragon was desperate to get back to the Isle.

There the old elves were faring far better, for the Eldunarí were able to sustain them with vitality. Though they still did not perform magic, at least those elves weren't swiftly approaching their graves. Like Arya.

No matter how he tried to avoid it, Eragon's thoughts always circled back to that one stark truth. Arya was dying. And if they didn't soon make it home, he might lose his beloved wife. They couldn't afford to run into trouble. They had to put their confidence in a hastily crafted ship and hope it would hold up for the short voyage.

Eragon remained in bed, these bleak musings his unwelcome companions, until Arya awoke. Then they gathered their packed belongings and left their tent to join their friends on the beach. After the black jaguar attacked Varhog, all of the couples had relocated to the beach and set up a close circle of tents to provide greater safety. Each night the men took turns keeping watch, and the group had experienced no further unexpected threats.

-:-:-

After a mostly silent breakfast—nearly everything on the tropical island now happened in a business-like, cheerless manner—the group boarded the ship and prepared to set sail with the tide. During his long weeks of recovery, Varhog had studied the manual on ship construction, which also contained a good deal about operating the craft. Thus, captaining the vessel naturally fell to him.

Every member of the party, but especially the men, were intimately familiar with every nook and cranny of the ship, so as Varhog called out orders, they knew just what to do.

With a dreary, cold drizzle dampening their spirits, Hanin and Tomath trimmed the sails, which caught the slight wind and filled with air. The dwarves, including the women, manned several oars while Grintuk, Eragon, and Murtagh used long, sturdy poles to encourage the ship out onto the ocean.

Most of the women were below deck at their husbands' insistence, keeping babies and themselves out of the chilling fog above.

Soon enough the ship was sailing in a steady course toward the Isle. Everyone shared the same determination to make it home at all costs, and the first day of smooth sailing seemed to suggest that they would likely achieve their goal.

Someone constantly kept watch, usually Eragon or Hanin, whose keen elven eyesight became indispensable for navigating through the thick fog that never seemed to lift. Such conditions were unsurprising, as they were sailing during early winter.

Aside from the weather, the lack of difficulties began to unsettle the desperate travelers. For though they never spoke of it, too worried that voicing their concern would somehow attract the exact outcome they hoped to avoid, everyone felt the nagging dread that they were not alone in the vast ocean.

A menacing presence seemed to lurk just out of view, though no one ever sighted anything to confirm such suspicions. But as the third day of undisturbed sailing came and went, Eragon and Hanin both persistently remained on duty in spite of their growing exhaustion, usually from a vantage point such as the crow's nest or the fighting top, a slightly lower platform about one-third of the way up the main mast. Knilf and Bodin also made incessant rounds on the main deck, axes at the ready and expressions grim.

On the evening of the fourth day, the near-constant drizzle increased in strength, only adding to the misery of the weary sailors. The relatively steady wind of the previous four days grew restless and sporadic, gusting and howling at strange intervals, causing the ship to pitch and reel in unpredictable directions. Jagged streaks of lightning intermittently sliced through the fog, momentarily lighting the progressively choppier water. Ominous thunder followed these helpful bursts of light, rumbling through the ensuing darkness and threatening of danger.

-:-:-

The women could also feel it in the berth cabin, where fussy babies made everyone tense and edgy. Breetuk, who was in an earlier stage of pregnancy than some of her less fortunate friends, and whose height and strength allowed her to be more help above deck, returned to the sleeping area on this stormy night only long enough to grab her sword.

"Everything all right up there?" Willow worriedly asked.

"Doesn't feel like it," Breetuk shortly answered. "But we can barely see anything. The lightning gives us temporary visibility, but the fog is still so thick. And the wind is picking up. This storm is making us nervous."

As Breetuk hurried back up to the main deck, Willow walked over to the nearest porthole and blindly gazed out into the blackness. The ship lurched, and Willow steadied herself against the window, fighting the endless nausea of this pregnancy. Though only about four months along, Willow already appeared to be in her third trimester. She couldn't imagine how much bigger she would get with three babies this time. Her growth during the twin pregnancies had already seemed so excessive.

Clamping her lips together and swallowing rapidly to suppress the urge to vomit, Willow began to turn toward her hammock. But just at that moment a flash of lightning rent the sky, and movement from a massive sleek body darted by the porthole.

Willow's heart jumped in her chest, and she stumbled backward in fright, crying out in alarm.

"What is it, Willow?" Nasuada asked in concern.

"I just saw something," Willow gasped. "Something swim by. Something huge." She staggered over to the ladder, now with her hand clapped over her mouth to keep the bile from emerging.

Once on the main deck, Willow could fight it no longer. She turned downwind and forcefully vomited, hoping no one stood in the trajectory and that the wind and rain would rinse away the mess. She continued her unsteady march through the sheeting rain toward the helm and Varhog.

When she reached his side, she grasped his arm for balance. "Willow, what are you doing up here!" Varhog yelled over the wind, anxiously regarding her. "Get back down to the cabin!"

"But I just saw something!" Willow shouted. "Over there. Something with an enormous, long, sleek body!"

Varhog glanced in the direction she was pointing, but nothing was visible in the darkness. The ship rocked violently, and Varhog held the wheel with an iron grip. Then he bellowed up to Eragon, "Firesword! Look that way! Willow saw some—"

His words were drowned out by a terrifying roar, which occurred at exactly the same moment as another bolt of lightning. A colossal sea serpent rose out of the churning black water to the height of the fighting top where Eragon perched, resulting in the most forceful pitching of the ship they had yet felt. Six-foot long tentacles sprouted from bony ridges above its cold, beady eyes, framing a gaping maw lined with hundreds of needle-sharp teeth. A forked tongue flicked out to taste the stormy night, searching for the prey the monster knew it would find. It must have been stalking them for days, lurking just out of sight in the gloomy waters as it waited for the perfect opportunity to strike.

Willow screamed in terror as Varhog's eyes widened in shock. Then he hollered, "Nïdhwal! Hanin, aim for its brain! We must kill it quickly to save the ship! Breetuk, come take the wheel."

But Breetuk didn't hear, for she and Grintuk were down on the main deck and the sea snake stabbed toward the ship, intending to snatch up its first bite of dinner. Both Urgals dove out of the way in opposite directions so the beast's attention would be divided. Grintuk regained his feet first, and he sprang back forward brandishing his sword, loudly taunting the creature to give his wife time to recover.

When a muted light from the crow's nest replaced the most recent glare of lightning, Willow guessed Hanin had cast a spell to provide enough visibility for them to fight the Nïdhwal, and she worried for his well-being.

While witnessing Grintuk and Breetuk's struggle, Varhog yelled, "Eartheyes, can you take the wheel? I'm sorry, but I need to go help. Just try to hold it steady."

Willow apprehensively replaced her husband as he leaped to the main deck, unsheathing his sword and releasing a wild battle cry. She heard Grintuk echo the fierce challenge, but both Urgals abruptly halted in midstride, frozen by some unseen force. Then Willow felt it too.

A paralyzing weight emanated from the Nïdhwal's mind, incapacitating Varhog, Breetuk, and Grintuk. The Urgals were locked in place in front of the sea beast, who appeared to relish its victory as it eyed the three huge people, contemplating which would make the best appetizer.

Even Eragon seemed somewhat affected by the trance, but Hanin, on the other hand, was completely undisturbed. His elven abilities must have somehow made him immune to the immobilizing effects of the Nïdhwal's mental manipulation, in the same way that the Ra'zac's putrid breath had no effect on elves, and Willow saw Hanin's arrows raining down from the crow's nest above. Each one buried itself deeper into the same soft area at the center of the Nïdhwal's bony brow. The monster roared in rage and agony, disregarding the three Urgals for a time as it further raised itself from the sea, its massive head aimed toward the old elf on the high platform.

This distraction was enough to allow Varhog and Grintuk's immediate recovery. In unison they lunged toward the serpent's exposed underbelly, each slashing out with massive Riders' blades to open two huge wounds in the soft surface. Breetuk wasn't far behind, and she likewise hacked into the snake's abdomen.

The Nïdhwal shrieked again, writhing in pain and causing more vigorous rocking of the craft. This thrashing began damaging sails and masts, which they could ill afford. As if on cue, both Eragon and Hanin bounded from their high perches toward the sea monster. Hanin landed on the top of its skull, using his momentum to drive his purple sword down into the beast's head. Eragon caught hold of one of the swinging tendrils, his forward motion carrying him around to the Nïdhwal's neck. Here Eragon repeatedly slashed with Brisingr, obviously hoping that their combined efforts would inflict enough damage to cripple or kill the frightful creature.

The new torture of these numerous attacks only created a more frenzied response from the immense sea serpent. It jerked its head back, and Willow watched in horror as Hanin sailed out of sight to land somewhere in the black sea.

"Hanin!" she screamed. "Varhog, Hanin just got thrown overboard!"

Eragon nearly experienced the same fate, only barely saving himself by jumping off the monster's neck and again using its tendril to swing down to the ship. He narrowly dodged being snatched up by the Nïdhwal by hastily rolling to the side as he landed on the deck.

-:-:-

Hanin hit the ocean with a splash barely distinguishable from the tossing waves around him. He sank for a few moments before fighting his way to the surface. Already tired from the endless watches and drain of using magic, Hanin immediately began swimming back toward the ship.

 _I will not drown_ , he resolutely thought. _Better to be eaten by a Nïdhwal than drown in a stormy sea_. Hanin had never been one to love the ocean. He much preferred the solid green of the forest, so his current plight seemed a cruel punishment indeed.

As a hundred-year-old elf, Hanin had keenly felt the repercussions of the voided Dragon Rider treaty. He now sported dashing gray streaks in his head of coal black hair. He had joked with Maehrí that if he could manage to go all white, he would be the first elf with a hair color other than black or silver. She hadn't appreciated his humor on the matter.

Hanin knew his wife would be upset to learn he had used magic tonight, but how could his friends fight a sea monster they couldn't see, a beast that could find them by smell alone and devour them all while they blindly groped about? But Hanin was slightly grateful that, though he was aging, his eyesight and hearing had not diminished. Those attributes certainly came in handy at times like these, not that Hanin encountered situations this dire on a regular basis.

Since he was on a roll, Hanin decided to use magic to accelerate his swim back toward the ship. If he didn't make it soon, he would be thrown too far on the churning waters for anyone to help him, and he had already determined not to die in the ocean. And he wanted to make sure he got his sword back before his companions succeeded in dispatching the Nïdhwal, which he knew they would. All of them were desperate to make it back home, and they were now only a few days away. No obstacle would prevent them from achieving their goal.

 _Maybe I'll just grab my sword as the monster slides back into its watery lair_ , Hanin grimly thought, continuing his swim in spite of his exhaustion.

-:-:-

By this time, the commotion on the main deck had awakened the men attempting to catch a few hours of restless sleep. Murtagh, Tomath, and the dwarves scrabbled up the ladder, reeling around like drunks due to the vessel's erratic pitching. The ship was gripped by the death throes of the enormous Nïdhwal, who stubbornly clung to life though eight people—including the newcomers—ruthlessly slashed its body wherever they could reach.

It roared again—a gurgling, bloody sound—and aimlessly jabbed toward the deck as those defending the ship finally succeeded in severing its head from its body. The beast's lower half slid out of sight into the water, but one tendril of the enormous upper segment snagged on the railing as it fell, wildly tilting the ship portside.

Willow was thrown off balance and rolled toward the railing, clumsily attempting to protect her distended womb as she slid toward the edge. "Varhog!" she shrieked. "Varhog, help me!"

She futilely clawed at the smooth, slippery deck, finding no purchase to slow her tumble over the edge. As she flipped over the rail, Willow just managed to grasp it with one hand.

Why did she have to experience life-threatening situations when pregnant? Willow's encounter with an angry, protective mother bear just before giving birth to Var and Will flitted through her mind. When she wasn't expecting, Willow was very able-bodied and agile, but the awkwardness of her growing womb hindered her usual abilities.

As she desperately clung to the railing, her feet dangling above the roiling ocean, Willow heard Varhog shout, "Grab Hanin's sword and cut that tendril free! The weight of its head will cause us to capsize! Then cut the sails free or we'll have the same problem. We didn't put enough weight in the keel to remain upright in these conditions!"

"But how will we get home?" Grintuk objected.

"We'll row!" Varhog roared, and Willow was relieved that his voice was closer to her. She held on to the slick wood through sheer determination alone.

Then he was right above her. "Willow!" Varhog yelled, clutching her slipping hand to begin pulling her up. But those following Varhog's orders must have succeeded right then at hacking the Nïdhwal's head loose, for the ship suddenly overcorrected toward its starboard side and Varhog was thrown back.

The abrupt shift broke Willow's already tenuous grip, and she heard Varhog curse as she plummeted to the water below. Her sharp fall into the churning water caused an acute pain in her large belly. That, coupled with the cold of the ocean, made Willow gasp in surprise just as her head went under. A new agony burned through her lungs as they filled with salty seawater.

Willow tried to thrash her way to the surface, but the heaving water thwarted her every effort. As her already limited vision became darker and darker, Willow felt a powerful smooth body glide by her legs. And then all was black.

-:-:-

Hanin was nearly to the ship when Willow toppled over the railing, barely catching hold of it with one hand to keep herself from falling. Hanin could hear Varhog shouting onboard and knew they had killed the sea snake.

 _Thanks for thinking of my sword at a time like this_ , he wryly thought, ending the spell lighting the ship to preserve some of his energy now that the immediate threat was dead. Then the ship drastically tilted in the opposite direction as the Nïdhwal's truncated head slid into a watery grave. From Hanin's perspective the vessel almost seemed to capsize, but he scarcely cared about that, for Willow had fallen in.

 _Can't have that_ , Hanin thought. None of the Riders could bear to lose Willow, least of all Varhog, who would probably commit suicide if his wife died. Then how would they get home?

Hanin propelled himself forward toward the location where Willow had disappeared and wasn't surprised that he couldn't see her. She would no doubt sink fast with her lungs full of water and the heavy awkwardness of her womb. Hanin filled his lungs and dove under, using a mental spell to give himself some visibility in the pitch black water. He jerked back in alarm as a huge shark swam under him, casting a ward to keep the beast away from him.

 _All the Nïdhwal's blood!_ Hanin panicked. _More sharks will come!_ Sure enough, several more of the deadly beasts darted under him.

Then he forced himself to focus. _Willow, where are you!_

Hanin couldn't see any sign of her and knew if Willow sank much farther, there would be no way for him to rescue her. He extended his awareness toward the murky depths below and quickly identified the three bright sparks created by Willow's babies.

 _No, sister_ , he promised. _I will not let you or your babies die. I would rather die in the ocean than allow that to happen_.

Feeling the immense drain on his already depleted reserves, Hanin performed yet another spell to stop Willow's descent. Then he reversed it and called her body back to him.

 _White haired old codger, here we come_ , Hanin dryly thought, focusing on the babies to make himself continue. _Not on my watch. When I might prevent them, I will not be responsible for the deaths of four people._

-:-:-

Varhog charged back toward the railing Willow had just been grasping, ready to hurl himself over after her. He couldn't see anything in the water below, but he knew if he hesitated, Willow might be tossed too far or deep for him to find.

Just before he could vault over the side, Firesword and Grintuk were holding either of his arms. "Varhog, wait!" Firesword hollered over the wind.

"No!" Varhog desperately bellowed, ripping his arms free. "She might drown in seconds down there!"

"But we can't see anything and might lose you too," Firesword argued. Lightning lit up the night, and Firesword scanned the water below.

"There's Hanin!" Grintuk shouted. "Look how close he is! He must have swum back! Varhog, he has Willow! Throw them the buoy ring!" Varhog immediately did.

"Are those sharks?" Firesword exclaimed. Then the light flashed out and they were once again nearly blind, seeing only ghostly afterimages.

Varhog felt the rescue device drag with extra weight. Firesword urgently informed, "Pull them up! Hanin has the ring!"

Varhog guessed the elf in the water must have cried out, but he hadn't heard over the deafening wind, thunder, and rain. Grintuk helped him begin hoisting Willow and Hanin up, but they hadn't pulled two arm lengths before the rope jerked with an unexpected weight and Hanin howled in agony.

As if to emphasize the distressing sound, another blaze of lightning sizzled through the air and Firesword, who was leaning over the railing in an effort to see anything he could, exclaimed, "A shark has Hanin's leg!" He ripped his bow off his back and notched an arrow, loosing it in the same second.

"Pull, you two!" Firesword frantically urged, releasing another arrow. "Those sharks are in a frenzy, no doubt from the Nïdhwal's blood!"

The two Urgals pulled with renewed vigor, both stumbling backward at the same moment when Firesword finally succeeded in detaching the shark from Hanin's leg. Once the two waterlogged survivors were level with the railing, Grintuk held them in place while Varhog rushed forward and removed an unconscious Willow from Hanin's arms. Firesword pulled the elf onto the ship.

"We need to get them down to the berth cabin, out of this storm and into some light!" Varhog cried, heading down the stairs. Grintuk took Hanin from Firesword, who followed them down.

The berth cabin was in shambles from the ship's prolonged pitching. The women were terrified, the babies squalling. Maehrí's face drained of color as Varhog, Grintuk, and Firesword carefully descended the ladder, passing Willow and Hanin between them.

Maehrí handed her distraught infant to Arya and rushed over, collapsing by her husband's side. "Hanin!" she gasped, holding her hands above the mangled, bleeding stump of his right leg. "What happened!" She immediately began singing a healing spell to stem the rapid flow of blood.

"He was thrown overboard," Varhog explained, noticing for the first time that Hanin's hair was completely white. He must have used magic to do more than light up the ship. Perhaps he used it to save Willow's life.

"And blood from the decapitated Nïdhwal attracted a huge school of sharks," Varhog continued, filled with an odd mix of gratitude, sorrow, and nausea as he examined Hanin's mutilated leg. "One of them latched onto his leg just as we were pulling him up."

"Nïdhwal?" Arya faintly echoed. "We thought the storm was responsible for the turmoil down here."

"No, my love," Firesword refuted. "A Nïdhwal attacked. It must have waited until the chaos of the storm distracted us. Willow came up to warn us just before it surfaced."

"And did she also fall in?" Maehrí asked, pausing her healing song.

"Yes," Varhog confirmed. "Hanin must have reached her seconds later, but she appears to have inhaled a lungful of seawater. Can you help her?" He fearfully studied Willow's pale face. Her lips had a bluish tint, and no air seemed to be passing through them. Varhog was nearly wild with worry for her and the babies.

"I need to stop this bleeding, but turn her on her side and hold her head lower than her torso. Some of the water might flow out on its own. If she starts coughing, her body will do as well as I could removing the liquid."

Varhog did as instructed, never taking his eyes from Willow's face as Maehrí finished attending to Hanin's amputated leg. The male elf was also unconscious, most likely from pain, loss of blood, and the exhaustion of his prolonged magical efforts.

Water did flow out of Willow's parted lips, but she didn't begin coughing. Maehrí crawled over beside Varhog and directed, "Lay her on her back. I will perform basic mouth-to-mouth resuscitation that requires no magic and should help her heart start beating again."

Stacking her hands over Willow's heart and using the heel of her lower hand to repeatedly compress her chest, Maehrí then asked, "How long ago did she fall in?"

Varhog closed his eyes, trying to think clearly. "Maybe three minutes. Five?"

After numerous pumps with her hands to encourage Willow's blood to start flowing, the female elf gently pushed on Willow's forehead, tilting her chin up while asking, "Would you like to do this part? We need to fill her lungs for her. Hold her nose closed and create a seal around her lips with yours. Blow into her mouth. If her chest rises, breathe once more. Then I will perform more chest compressions."

Varhog immediately complied, feeling an uneasy tightening in his gut at the cold, waxy feel of Willow's lips. Her chest did rise as he breathed into her mouth, so he filled her lungs again and sat back to give Maehrí access. This time she only repeated the downward pressure four times before removing her hands so Varhog could lean over. He was grateful she was doing the chest compressions. In his panicked state, Varhog was sure he would break Willow's sternum with his unnatural strength.

Arya handed Maehrí's baby to Nasuada so she could make her way over to the two unconscious people on the floor. She knelt beside Varhog and rested her hands over Willow's protruding womb.

Though she said nothing, Firesword immediately implored, "Arya, please don't use magic!"

"Hush, Eragon," Arya commanded. "I will not allow Willow's babies to die. They are not as compromised as she, but I can ensure they receive some of this fresh blood as Maehrí and Varhog fill Willow's body."

Firesword clenched his hands into fists but made no further protest, apparently deciding it would do no good anyway.

The two performing the resuscitation repeated the process three times before Willow responded with a fit of coughing. Maehrí turned her head sideways so the rest of the water would flow away from Willow's face. Willow then turned even more, curling around her womb.

"The babies," she weakly muttered. "Are they hurt?"

Arya stroked Willow's hand where it grasped her womb and reassured, "They are fine, Willow. While Maehrí and Varhog attended to you, I saw to it that babies received what they needed. How are you, sister?"

"Thank you, Arya," Willow fervently whispered. Then she answered, "I'm cold. My throat hurts, and I'm thirsty."

"Can I hold her now?" Varhog requested.

"Yes, but we should get her changed and bundled up," Maehrí advised. "Hanin too. The rest of you are just as drenched as if you had fallen into the ocean, for that matter. Everyone get into dry clothes."

"The violent rocking of ten minutes ago seems to have stopped," Nasuada commented as those wearing wet clothing began following Maehrí's counsel. "Or is that just my imagination?"

"We had to cut the sails," Murtagh informed. "To keep from capsizing. But the storm might have also relented."

"Wonderful timing," Breetuk sarcastically remarked. "Would have been nice before the Nïdhwal attacked."

"How big was it?" Nasuada wondered.

"The top half that we could see was as high as the fighting top platform," Firesword answered. "I could look straight into its eyes. I saw how intelligent it was and guessed it intentionally ambushed us right at that moment. Its open maw was wide enough that Grintuk could have walked into it without ducking."

"I almost got to experience that," Grintuk wryly stated, peeling off his soaked shirt and accepting the dry one Breetuk handed him to pull over his head. "I think it decided to eat me first because I'm the biggest. And it would have, had Hanin not saved us all by filling its head full of arrows. Even without magic you elves really outshine the rest of us in certain situations. The Nïdhwal completely immobilized me with its mind, but it seemed to have no effect on Hanin." He glanced down at the pale elf still lying on the floor.

"Maehrí, would you like me to move him?" Grintuk then offered. "Will he be all right?"

Maehrí's hands began trembling, and Varhog saw that she had only barely managed to maintain her composure to focus on treating Willow. But that resolve seemed to be slipping and Varhog thought he could guess why. Her husband, already so altered from his previous state by the accelerated aging he had undergone, had nearly been killed during his heroic effort and had lost his leg in the process.

"He will be as well as one can without a leg," Maehrí whispered. "Moving him will not cause any harm."

"I'm sorry for sounding so insensitive," Grintuk quietly apologized. "That's what I meant by my question—whether moving him would be unwise."

Maehrí bravely nodded. "He would be more comfortable on a mat, but I don't want him in a hammock. The ropes would put pressure against his wound. I also might need assistance changing his clothes. I'm feeling really shaky."

Grintuk and Breetuk didn't hesitate to help, and for the next several minutes, everyone finished changing into dry clothing and getting comfortable.

Then Firesword said, "We all once again somehow managed to survive that trying ordeal. But it was closer this time. We almost lost Hanin and Willow. I'm not sure what we would do if we had to face another Nïdhwal."

"Is there another one, darling?" Arya asked.

"There hasn't been for several years," Firesword replied. "And we're only a couple of days away from the Isle, unless the storm blew us way off course. We'll keep hoping for the best and do everything we can do to make it home."

"But not tonight," Varhog wearily submitted. "The storm has calmed and the sails are gone. The seabed is likely too deep to make dropping anchor an effective option, but we should eventually be able to make up for our drift. Let us now rest. After that, I won't stop rowing until we reach the shore of the Isle, but I need to make sure Willow stays warm tonight."

"Yes," Firesword agreed. "We will rest tonight and resume our travels tomorrow."

* * *

 **A/N:** I hope that was intense and action-packed enough for those who have been waiting. My husband has given me lots of feedback on how to improve my action/suspense scenes, and I did my best to incorporate his advice here. Hopefully it worked!

I just want to clarify, for those who haven't read _The Cycle Continues_ or who might have forgotten. Maehrí is fifty years younger than Hanin, so fifty, which is why she performs more magic than he or Arya. Though it tires her a great deal more, she isn't as threatened as the other two because she's not at the age where death would have already occurred for most humans.


	90. Part II 36 Surviving and Arriving

**36\. Surviving and Arriving**

Ironically, the next morning dawned bright and clear. The previous night's storm had blown away the fog. And then the wind had mercifully died down, leaving the ship's position relatively unchanged, or so it seemed.

Using the morning star and then the rising sun to determine their bearings, the men began rowing for the Isle of the Eldunarí after breakfast. They knew their journey would now take longer, but they had no other choice. Everyone flatly refused Arya and Maehrí's halfhearted offers to somehow assist them magically.

Eragon, Murtagh, and Tomath took turns with the dwarves during the day. Neither dwarven female—Greta or Vinya—was expecting, so they also helped when able. The consolidated power of their race proved useful, though their husbands were clearly capable of rowing longer and harder.

The Urgals often rowed through the night and rested during the days, since they could see better in the darkness than anyone besides Eragon. Varhog and Grintuk's stamina allowed them to row for hours at a time. When exhaustion threatened, they usually pushed through, both equally bent on returning home.

In spite of these carefully scheduled shifts to ensure that everyone received adequate rest, they still had not reached the Isle by a week following the stormy night.

-:-:-

Hanin regained consciousness and began a slow, painful recovery. Maehrí did all she could to ease his discomfort, but Hanin was worried about her health because of the already significant demands of caring for a small infant and therefore permitted her to do very little for him.

Willow spent much of her time aiding Maehrí in attending to Hanin, well aware that he had saved them all during the Nïdhwal's attack, even jeopardizing his own life to rescue her.

Hanin once joked, "We all owe you one, Willow. You saved us from Kulkarvek. So now we're even."

Willow had laughed, appreciative as always of Hanin's good humor. They kept one another fitting company, respectively miserable from the pain of a grievous wound or triplet pregnancy.

Two weeks after casting away from the tropical island, food was becoming scarce, though they fortunately still had plenty of water. They had packed as generously as they could, but the rain—which they had stored in abundance for their anticipated journey—had prevented the women from stocking up as many dehydrated foods as they hoped.

Any time a wild animal had attacked them while still on the island, the Urgals had killed it and preserved the meat for their use, knowing the mainly fruit-based diet they planned to eat during the short voyage would be insufficient to sustain them.

But now that all of the men were exercising so intensively every day, several of the women were expecting or breastfeeding, and their journey had taken twice as long as they anticipated, everyone was increasingly worried they might run out of food. But the Urgals, of course, immediately consented to let everyone share the meat stores.

-:-:-

"How much farther could it be!" Willow cried during their meager breakfast a week later after Varhog once again declined to eat so she could. As unlikely as it was, Varhog was now starting to look rather gaunt, which was alarming indeed, considering he initially had so much more bulk than many of the others. "Surely we weren't blown that far off course during the storm!"

"We must have been," Varhog wearily replied. He had just finished another endless rowing session the previous night. "I'm going to sleep."

The other men, who likewise insisted that their wives eat before themselves, were in worse shape than Varhog. Their rowing sessions were now shorter and less robust, as they simply had not the strength to continue like before.

"Wouldn't it be ironic if we all starved to death only a couple of days from arriving home?" Murtagh sarcastically remarked, nibbling the dried fruit slice of which his breakfast consisted.

"That doesn't help, dear," Nasuada irritably reprimanded. "Eat some of mine."

"You need it for the baby," Murtagh protested.

"You'd think we could have had the sense to avoid conceiving once we realized we were stranded," Breetuk commented. "That might have been a wiser course of action than carrying on as we always have in that regard."

Grintuk weakly smiled. "At least we could enjoy one small pleasure. But now I don't even feel the desire to do that. I'm too hungry. Anyone want to help me try to catch some fish or seagulls?"

"I will," Varhog volunteered. "I'd rather eat than sleep, though I'm dead on my feet."

Everyone who wasn't rowing agreed to participate in this effort. Without using magic, all of the former Riders could sing in the ancient language to entice the unsuspecting birds closer. In this manner the group captured several sea fowl.

Maehrí fashioned the ropes dangling from the empty masts into a woven net, which they cast over the side and dragged through the water, ensnaring a decent number of fish. The rowing efforts then ceased as everyone helped prepare a meal from the animals.

Even those who had never eaten animal flesh prior to their dilemma now eagerly partook along with the rest, grateful for sustenance during their emergency circumstances. Everyone ate until the food was gone, and there was sufficient to fill them all.

With renewed spirits and energy, everyone who could again resumed rowing the ship.

-:-:-

They continued in this manner yet another week, staying alive on fish and fowl, though their health continued to deteriorate without any nutrients from plant foods. But by then the demoralized travelers had depleted their clean drinking water supply.

When the sporadic winter rain showers did not adequately fill their needs, the dwarves devised a method for distilling the seawater, which worked satisfactorily well. The residual salt they removed from the water also became useful as a means of seasoning the increasingly monotonous diet of seabirds and fish.

"Could we have missed it?" Murtagh asked Varhog one day after a fifteen minute rowing session had entirely sapped him of energy. "I'm not sure how much longer we're going to survive like this."

"It's possible," Varhog said. "I would have expected to reach the Isle by now. My sense of direction is certainly not infallible."

"Yet we're not relying on your sense of direction alone," Murtagh muttered in frustration. "The sky is guiding us in the right course and still no sign of it."

"Your guess is as good as mine," Varhog responded. "I'm worried about how the poor nutrition is affecting the women."

"Yes," Murtagh agreed. "Mathias and baby Hanin seem to be doing fine, though their mothers look more haggard by the day. I guess their bodies are leeching nutrients to nourish their sons. But the unborn babies are likely to suffer as much as the women. We don't have any options for fresh plants until we find land. I'd almost take being stranded on the tropical island over aimlessly wandering the open—"

"There's a boat out there!" Eragon called down from the crow's nest, interrupting Murtagh's speech. "With several people on it. Can anyone else see it?"

Everyone on deck rushed to the bow, scanning the horizon for any sign of what Eragon had spotted. From their lower vantage point, it took a while for those on the deck to discern the small vessel, but they did soon enough. And not long after they too observed several people aboard the craft.

"It's Blödhgarm and some elves from the Isle!" Eragon exclaimed, whooping as he scuttled down the ladder. "Everyone to your oars! Let's meet them as quickly as we can!"

-:-:-

Shortly thereafter, the malnourished seafarers reached the modest boat carrying a rescue party from the Isle. Once the five elves manning the craft had boarded the ship, they explained how they happened to arrive.

Blödhgarm shared that approximately a week prior, the Eldunarí had sensed the travelers from their resting place in the Cave. Upon observing their struggles, the bodiless dragons had informed the elves, advising them to take food and several of the hearts to aid the downtrodden sailors on their journey home. This the elves immediately did, relying on the Eldunarí in their possession to guide them in a true course to the adults on the ship.

Now that the elves had found them, they would lead the parents back in the same manner. Everyone rejoiced as they gratefully devoured the fresh foods from the Isle. Then they set their course following the elves, landing on the easternmost shore of the Isle of the Eldunarí five days later.

Having received forewarning of their parents' imminent arrival from the Eldunarí still on the Isle—who maintained close communication with those on the ship—all of the children awaited them on the beach.

An elated cheer greeted the exhausted but joyful parents as they disembarked from their battered vessel and staggered onto dry land after a grueling month at sea. Before they had made it twenty feet up the beach, they were unanimously swarmed by their dozens of young children.

All of the two and three-year-olds—Oliver, Ari, Tage, Meri, and the rest—fell into the arms of their mothers or fathers with tears of pure happiness streaming down their cheeks. The parents' tears were equal to if not greater than those of their children, for they were _finally_ home after a five-month absence, which was four months and three weeks longer than they planned to stay away.

No one was surprised that these youngsters, who had likely begun to question whether they would ever again see their mothers or fathers, clung to their parents with obsessive desperation, apparently determined to never let them go.

The men were relieved that they would never have to row again—ever—if they didn't want to. And the women were inexpressibly comforted that they would sleep once more in soft, clean beds and have an endless supply of fresh foods available. Everyone anticipated some much deserved rest and many fine meals to recuperate from the demands of their extended getaway, which luxuries began that very evening and didn't cease until all experienced a full and satisfying recovery.

Hanin, of course, did not enjoy the miraculous restoration of his amputated leg, but he nonetheless maintained a cheerful outlook. And his children delighted in his dramatic retelling of the events leading up the unfortunate loss, which account the other adults seriously verified.

But he, Maehrí, and Arya did appreciate immediate support from the Eldunarí. Eragon was finally able to rest easy that until such time as the oldest children succeeded on their quest of finding Lena and reversing the terrible misfortunes afflicting the former Dragon Riders, his beloved Arya would no longer be burdened by accelerated aging or impending death.

Thus one of the three parties directly affected by Tenga's curse managed to overcome the twisted magician's intended fate for them. The adults comprising this group never ceased praying for their young adult children abroad in the land, who were still far from accomplishing their objectives or safely returning to their families on the Isle.

-:-:-:-


	91. Part II 37 Dragon with a Death Wish

**37\. Dragon with a Death Wish**

Over a month after her confrontation with Bid'Daum, life hadn't changed much for Lena. She still served as Tenga's personal cook and housekeeper. As she continued to make him the finest foods she could with what little was available to her, he rarely pressed her for details about her free time activities.

Tenga frequently left Vroengard on trips to the mainland, which always concerned Lena. He never brought up the incident of finding her ring or how her deception had affected him, though she knew he was one to retaliate in dramatic ways when pushed far enough. Maybe she hadn't yet provoked him beyond his tolerance level. But Lena worried that he and Trianna were plotting something dreadful for her friends to face and she felt completely helpless to prevent such a fate.

Yet she knew that Bid'Daum was doing something to fulfill his end of the agreement they had made. Tenga occasionally attempted to repeat the encounter leading up to her ring's discovery by visiting her room late at night. At times such as these, Tenga would always get a puzzled expression on his face as he approached her bed and absently excuse himself, muttering about having pressing business to attend to.

Lena was inexpressibly grateful for Bid'Daum's interference. And as she had ample opportunity to continue sneaking supplies to Iduna and Nёya, Lena saw that he was upholding yet another condition of their pact by sustaining the Caretakers' lives. The elven twin sisters no longer appeared as skeletons with skin and hair over their bones.

Without Bid'Daum's timely aid, Lena was sure the Caretakers would have died within a week. But now they were beginning to recover. They could both see and hear again, as well as move around and leave the vault at night if they wanted. Lena was now hopeful that the twins would survive to see the Dragon Rider pact reinstated, so long as Bid'Daum continued his efforts. And if her friends could find her, succeed in defeating Tenga, and return her safely to the Isle where such a spell would surely be most effective.

Though she never mentioned this to Bid'Daum, who remained nearly as aloof and uncaring as before, Lena also secretly hoped that she would somehow be able to use his power to protect all of the Eldunarí from ever again being coerced into serving evil purposes. This unfortunate circumstance was, after all, responsible for most of the tragedy and war in Alagaёsia for the last century. Lena had long felt her unique contribution to improving the land would be to find a way to prevent unscrupulous or power-hungry magicians from improperly using the Eldunarí's strength.

But Lena knew attempting to discuss the matter with Bid'Daum would be pointless. The dragon was indifferent when Tenga borrowed his vitality and magical might to sustain or augment his own capabilities.

This fact was confirmed one morning when Lena went to the Vault of Souls. Bid'Daum had distracted Tenga during one of his unwelcome visits the previous night, and Lena made her way to the underground hiding place intending to thank the dragon.

When she arrived in the stifling cavern, however, Bid'Daum was gone. Only Swiftpaw, Iduna, and Nёya were present. The elves looked better than ever since their deterioration had begun. Though Nёya's black hair was still interspersed with streaks of gray, it was no longer entirely white. And Iduna's silver tresses now appeared almost as they had when Lena first met her, though she imagined that the silver hid the remaining white and gray.

But Lena was shocked by the emptiness of the vast open chamber without the mountainous white Eldunarí filling it.

"Where is Bid'Daum?" she asked the two elves as she dropped down in front of them, her words echoing around the bare space.

"Tenga came late last night and took him," Iduna informed. "He barely spared a second glance toward us, as harried and rushed as he looked."

"He didn't notice or care that you're still alive?" Lena exclaimed.

"Evidently not," Nёya verified.

"Why would he have taken the dragon after all these months of leaving him here?" Lena wondered.

"We do not know, Lena," Iduna answered. "We can attempt to learn that from Bid'Daum when he returns."

" _If_ he returns," Lena tremulously corrected. What if Tenga had somehow learned of her plotting and had removed Bid'Daum as a co-conspirator? "Tenga might not bring him back."

"I doubt a magician as intelligent and selfish as Tenga would risk letting Bid'Daum fall into anyone else's possession," Nёya comforted. "This vault is likely the best hiding place for an object of such immense vitality and power."

"I hope you are right," Lena said. "I suppose I had better not be here if and when Tenga returns. I'll bring you more food when I can. You two look remarkably improved."

"Thank you, Lena," Iduna replied. "We are grateful you somehow managed to reach Bid'Daum after all of our fruitless efforts. We never would have considered resorting to tantrums, screaming, and insults. But for nothing less, apparently, would the dragon abandon his mourning."

"True, though I now worry that such tactics were unwise. Bid'Daum is still very distant and unfeeling. I wonder if there was a way I could have made a better first impression. But maybe not. As you said, he might never have responded to anything less vehement. However, it does make me nervous that he feels almost like an enemy."

Lena could say no more regarding this particular dilemma, for she had indeed sworn an oath in the ancient language that she would not reveal her part of the contract until it was time to destroy the dragon's Eldunarí. Therefore, the elves were operating under the assumption that Bid'Daum had merely agreed to help them out of the goodness of his heart of hearts.

As if to second that notion, Nёya reassured, "You need not feel such distress, Lena. Bid'Daum offered to assist us and has been true to his word. Iduna and I are slowly regaining our former strength. The dragon even informed us of his intention to help you thwart Tenga by allowing your friends to find you. We believe we have come up with a way to prevent Tenga from taking you off this island should he ever attempt to do so."

"Really?" Lena cried. "Well, that's good news! But I really worry that I shouldn't be down here any longer. Tell me about it next time, won't you? And hopefully Bid'Daum will be back and willing to share where he went."

The elven sisters agreed, and Lena rushed out of the Vault of Souls so Tenga wouldn't find her there.

-:-:-

When next she returned, Bid'Daum was indeed back, much to Lena's relief. She asked him about his temporary absence, and he apathetically told her that Tenga had taken him to borrow his energy in creating some type of obstacle outside of Ilirea. Beyond that, Bid'Daum didn't know—or wouldn't share—more details.

Lena was furious. "You helped Tenga! Again! How could you, Bid'Daum? That obstacle, whatever it was, was most likely intended to hinder or kill my friends! If that happens, they'll never find me and I'll never—" Her words abruptly cut off as she almost voiced her promise aloud for the elven sisters to hear.

 _Careful, child_ , the dragon derisively cautioned, addressing only Lena. _You really are a spiteful little wench._

 _No I'm not!_ Lena defied, automatically resorting to thinking her response for Bid'Daum to sense so the other inhabitants of the vault wouldn't be privy to this discussion. _I'm a very even-tempered, selfless person, unlike_ you! _But you wouldn't respond to such reasonable measures, would you? Nor will you now. You practically require one to interact in this manner if they ever hope to get through to you!_

 _Be that as it may_ , the dragon condescendingly replied, _I never promised not to help Tenga again, now did I?_

 _Yes you . . ._ Lena began to argue, trailing off as she realized that Bid'Daum was right. That hadn't been one of her stipulations.

 _And can you possibly think why refusing to help him now might not be in our best interest?_ the dragon patronizingly continued. _You did once brag about your own intelligence._

Lena rolled her eyes at the Eldunarí, grateful he had no sensory organs to perceive the expression. _Yes, I can,_ she sullenly thought. _Tenga would immediately suspect something was amiss and might try to coerce you into serving him. Whereas now, so long as he continues to believe nothing has changed, he will be helpless to prevent you from closing yourself off to him when it matters most._

 _Precisely, girl_ , Bid'Daum mockingly congratulated. _So do not question me. I will fulfill our treaty per our terms only based on my expectation that you will do likewise. And you already know the consequence if you fail. Your previous experience with dragons obviously did not prepare you to deal with me. One ought not to trifle with a dragon seeking death._

"So it seems," Lena faintly agreed, once again sensing the danger of her situation. Bid'Daum laughed contemptuously and promptly withdrew into his heart, leaving Lena to her troubled musings.

Soon after, Lena dejectedly vacated the Vault of Souls, forgetting her request that the elves share their plan for keeping her on Vroengard should Tenga ever try to remove her.

-:-:-:-


	92. Part II 38 Setbacks

**38\. Setbacks**

The setbacks Nefin had feared after the pull from Will's ring changed direction did not fail to eventually make an appearance. The nine youth following the enchantment experienced what seemed every conceivable delay.

They left Frederick's inn at the beginning of the year's final month. Though still quite early in the winter, the weather only worsened the farther north they traveled. Endless blizzards, which they suspected might be a result of the Shade's magical effort, assailed them and prevented their steeds from finding adequate grazing opportunities each night when they stopped to camp.

Consequently, the youth quickly ran out of feed for the horses and were forced to stop at every village to replenish such supplies. This course deviated from the draw exerted by Will's ring, but the group had no other choice if they wanted their animals to stay healthy.

On the way to Feinster, while they were still riding through a relatively unpopulated area, Brom addressed the group during breakfast one morning.

"I've been wanting to try something," he began. "I'm anticipating that the farther north we go, the more we will see effects of what has been going on in Ilirea. We may run into situations where we need to communicate mentally. Nefin, Hanna, Zadí, and I can still do this because we learned how with our elven inheritance. But the rest of you former Dragon Riders lost that ability with your bonds, though you would be able to hear our thoughts if we spoke them into your minds. However, I've been thinking of a spell that might serve to link all of our minds so we could quickly converse in this manner if the circumstances called for it. Would anyone object if I experiment right now?"

Of course no one did, so Brom cast the spell nonverbally and it worked just as he hoped, connecting the minds of all eight of his friends.

"We won't hear every thought anyone thinks while I'm doing this," he explained. "Just those we intentionally think as communication. But we're all familiar with how one another's minds feel from before Tenga's curse, so can everyone identify the others?"

His eight companions nodded. Just then Brom noticed an additional spark of life flickering in his awareness. He honed in on it and looked at Zadí in surprise when he realized it was coming from her.

"Zadí!" he exclaimed. "What's that extra light?"

"A baby," she casually answered.

"A baby!" Brom repeated. "You're pregnant!"

"Mm-hmm," Zadí confirmed. "I wondered when you would notice."

Brom laughed and ran over to give her an exuberant embrace. "Congratulations! Did you know, Var?"

"Yes," his friend verified. "Zadí told me that first night after we left Frederick's village. She had just learned for sure. We're really excited."

"That's wonderful!" Brom cried. "I'll be an uncle!"

The others then offered similar words of happiness or anticipation before they set off in high spirits.

-:-:-

The snow picked up before they even reached Feinster, where the southern coastal residents were jubilant about weather conditions so unlike what they were accustomed to. Here the youth restocked their oats and also obtained some hay, since it looked like their mounts might not have many options for eating grass.

They had borrowed nine of Frederick's ten horses, but the group was now obliged to double up in some of the saddles so the riderless animals could carry all of the needed supplies. Brom, Nefin, and Hanna—and even Will, Var, and Brin, to a certain extent—were able to run alongside the horses for great distances, and this they frequently did to reach the Jiet River.

They followed the river northward toward Belatona, often stopping at villages along the water to continue replacing their diminished provisions. Though the friends journeyed as quickly as they could, the blinding snow or driving rain sometimes slowed their pace to barely more than a walk. Thus it took them an entire month to reach Belatona, where they decided to stay for few days to recover from the demands of their travels.

From Belatona they set out along the shore of Leona Lake toward Dras-Leona. Citizens of Alagaёsia were generally grim and aloof, never voluntarily interacting with the youth as they had once been wont to do, which change the friends speculated was evidence of the Shade's terrorizing rule.

Whenever any of the young adults attempted to obtain information about the Shade or what was happening in Ilirea, without fail the person dealing with them would stop speaking, hurriedly finish their business, and promptly disappear.

Brom was finally compelled to gather what knowledge he could from people's minds, which practice he engaged in as sparingly as possible. They were deeply troubled by what they learned. Rumors of Ra'zac sightings were increasing. People were disappearing without a trace from their towns and homes during the night. Respectable establishments were shutting their doors as owners tried to keep themselves and their families safe by going into hiding. Crime was building as poverty-stricken residents were forced to such measures through desperation. Enforcement officials seemed now to be chosen from the more corrupt segment of the populace, which only exacerbated every problem as they apparently encouraged such chaos. Anyone opposing the dismal decline was immediately shipped off to Ilirea's dungeons, which punishment—or threat thereof—inspired greater fear and compliance than any other compulsory method.

These conditions worsened the closer the youth came to Dras-Leona, which had long remained the seediest city in Alagaёsia in spite of the high queen's best efforts. From Dras-Leona the party intended to travel directly to Ilirea, for Will's ring seemed to be guiding them in that exact direction. And if they didn't find Lena, they hoped to at least learn more useful information concerning her whereabouts and possibly even dispatch of the Shade, since they knew nothing less would reverse the depressing degeneration of their beloved homeland.

Ajh had already decided to disguise his appearance as much as possible the nearer they drew to Alagaёsia's capital city, fearing that many people would undoubtedly be able to identify him as the firstborn royal prince. However, cloaked and hooded figures clearly drew much attention from Dras-Leona's suspicious citizens.

The nine friends determined to restock their supplies on the outskirts of town and be on their way as soon as possible, but things did not go quite according to plan. Before they had concluded their transaction with the nervous farmer selling them hay, oats, and other goods, a large group of armed men rode up and encircled them.

While greedily examining their fine mounts, exquisite weapons—which all of the former Dragon Riders wore in plain sight—and money, the leader of the band spat a disgusting wad of tobacco from his mouth and crustily demanded, "What's yer bizness in these parts?"

Before replying, Brom spoke into the minds of his eight friends, _Let me handle this, please. Zadí, don't say anything. These men are as low as they come. Any smile from you or Hanna will only mean trouble._

Then he calmly answered, "We are purchasing feed for our horses and provisions for our travels, sir."

The man scowled at Brom's perfectly articulate speech and unperturbed manner. "Mixed group, ye are. We rarely seen elves here 'bouts. Those are some handsome weapons ye have. Where ye from?"

"We started our journey in Feinster," Brom selectively responded.

"Where ye headed?"

"Ilirea."

The deputy loudly guffawed and was joined by several of his men. Wiping his watery eyes, he declared, "Ilirea! Haven't ye heard what's been going on there? Fools ye are fer headin' that way. Though her eminence might be pleased such a healthy group of young'uns be riding straight toward her lair, you won't get far. We heard rumor of some new-fangled vegetation blocking the gate to the main avenue."

"Is that so?" Brom replied in mild interest. "Well, we have also only heard rumors. Are you in good standing with her eminence? Perhaps you can give her word of our intentions."

The man's face paled. "Nah," he quickly protested, "no'un sees her eminence 'cept those she wants to see. And them's never alive long."

"I have a feeling she will want to see us," Brom casually remarked. "Perhaps we can take her a report of your performance in Dras-Leona."

The ruffian shifted uncomfortably in his saddle. "I don't care fer yer attitude young man," he snapped. "P'raps we might relieve ya of yer weapons and take ye into custody fer the night."

"If you feel it necessary," Brom allowed. "Though you might as well not go to the trouble. We would not still be your prisoners in the morning, nor would our horses or weapons fetch the high price you are hoping."

Squinting suspiciously, the man growled, "Ye threatenin' me, young mister?"

"Not at all," Brom said. "Simply informing you of what would happen if you take us into custody. We would go willingly enough, but we haven't done anything wrong and so we would also leave when we please. Unless you initiate violence, none of us would so much as lift a finger, though I can assure you that we all know how to use our weapons far more efficiently than your men. But no prison or cell will hold us, which is why I said before that you may as well not go to the trouble."

The deputy again spat his protest and barked at Ajh, "Ye there, lower yer hood, if ye know what's good fer ya."

Ajh readily obeyed, and the man's eyes widened as recognition crossed his features. "Yer royal highness," he breathed. "Where're yer ma and da? And yer dragon?"

"I'm not sure where my parents currently are," Ajh replied. "My dragon left some months ago after she forgot that I was her Rider."

"I thought those weapons were too fancy fer a group of teenagers," the man muttered. "So were ye all once Dragon Riders? Her eminence boasts that the Dragon Riders are no more, and since we ain't seen no sign o' them or their dragons anywhere in Alagaёsia since last summer, we 'spect she's speakin' true."

"Seven of us once were," Brom confirmed. "The Shade spoke truly. Which is why were are riding horses. Now, may we conclude our business and be on our way? We have kept this good farmer waiting long enough."

The deputy mumbled nervously before saying, "She mayn't like to hear that I let you off easy. P'raps she'd want to know yer so close."

"I can guarantee that she knows we are close," Brom reassured. "I would actually wager that she is expecting us, even hoping we soon arrive. I know you fear this Shade, and rightly so, but if you allow us to ride on, we may extend you more mercy than we otherwise would have once the Shade is gone and things are back to normal. I doubt your law enforcement efforts in Dras-Leona have been above reproach, and the high queen will not tolerate such underhanded measures of keeping peace in her kingdom."

"A fine speech, pretty boy," the man snarled. "I git yer gist. Now ye _are_ threatenin' me. No need for that. I'm not really in charge 'round here. Just answer to the sheriff, who works fer the guv'ner. But if her eminence really is xpectin' ya, she might be more put out that we slowed ye up. Be off with ya!"

The man turned his horse and spurred it forward, his restless men falling in behind.

The farmer had fearfully witnessed the entire exchange. Now he shakily accepted the money Brom handed him and whispered, "You really were once a Dragon Rider?"

"Yes, sir."

"Is there any hope for us? For Alagaёsia?" the humble man questioned.

"There is always hope where people don't give up," Brom answered. "You may not be able to do much, but we can and we have a better chance of defeating the Shade than most. We will do our best to set everything right just as soon as we can. Thank you for dealing with us. We will ensure your safety as much as it is within our power."

The farmer nodded. "The provisions are in the barn."

"If you show us where, we can load them ourselves," Brom offered. "You can return to your family."

They quickly retrieved the supplies, and as they began to ride away, Brom cast several basic wards to protect the man's home and farm from vandalism. Then he removed any memory of their interaction from the peasant's mind to protect him from mental prying, replacing the true events with a scenario where the band of ruffians had surrounded the farmer's home and ordered the surrender of some of his goods as taxes. Brom knew such unlawful seizures had been taking place on a regular basis, so he hoped it would serve as believable cover and protect the man from any negative consequences of his goodwill.

* * *

 **A/N:** Sorry about the delays in posting. My family is going through a very transitional time right now, and the past couple of weeks have been a whirlwind of driving back and forth, cleaning, painting, packing, selling a house, and preparing to move, all while hoping the baby will wait to be born until it's all done. I'll do my best to finish Part 3 so y'all will know how the story ends, but hopefully you'll give me some grace if a few days or so pass between chapter updates. Thanks! Hope you're still enjoying! ~A


	93. Part II 39 The Obstacle

**39\. The Obstacle**

Yet another exhausting month dragged by—the youth toiling through freezing snow and torrential rain—before they reached Ilirea. Their pace was infuriatingly slow, but they simply could not accelerate it at all. Brom refused to counter any magical efforts that might be responsible for the weather conditions, arguing that they didn't know if the Shade or Tenga was behind it all and that he didn't want either of them to have a clue of his abilities before they confronted them.

The most he consented to do—with Nefin and Hanna's assistance—was melt the snow each night when they stopped to camp, clearing ground for them to set up their tents and for the horses to graze on. This measure was also necessary since they were crossing the uninhabited stretch of barren wilderness between Dras-Leona and Ilirea and therefore had fewer opportunities to obtain supplies at settlements along the way. And it was also useful in providing fresh water, since the water they carried was always solid ice.

The one advantage of the relentless glacial temperatures was that the Ramr River had frozen over, which allowed them to bridge the waterway without deviating from their direct course.

But when they finally began crossing the plains and farmlands stretching out before Ilirea's wall, the youth quickly saw that their direct course had ended, though the setbacks clearly hadn't.

A full mile before the gate to Ilirea's main avenue, their progress came to an abrupt halt. Extending away in front of them toward the city wall was a tall, dense tangle of vegetation.

"What is this?" Will asked in confusion.

Ajh shrugged. "It wasn't here before. Perhaps this obstacle we've heard mention of? Another of Tenga's games? Or the Shade's?"

"There's an entrance," Nefin commented, not turning his attention away from the wall of shrubbery.

"Where?" Brom doubtfully questioned. "I don't see anything."

"Me neither," Hanna confessed.

"Here," Nefin confidently proclaimed, walking forward and a few steps past the seemingly impassable border of greenery. "It's an optical illusion."

Nefin glanced to either side of himself then jumped straight up and easily landed atop the eight-foot hedge. "This is a maze," he stated, drawing his sword to hack at the bush under his feet. The blade bounced back, and Nefin lithely sprang from his perch to avoid falling off. "A maze we won't be able to cut our way through. It appears to be magically protected."

"A maze?" Var dubiously repeated.

"Yes," Nefin verified. "A pathway extends away from me in both directions. I can see where it turns at either end."

"Why can't I see the opening?" Brom wondered. "I can usually sense things like that."

"Now that I'm inside," Nefin slowly began, "I can't use magic anymore. Maybe that's why you didn't notice. You rely on magic to perceive such subtleties. I just noticed because I've trained my eyes and ears. Must be a tracker's thing."

Brom creased his brow and moved toward Nefin, turning his head aside and unconsciously cringing as he passed through the magical deception meant to disguise the entrance.

"It's so real," he admiringly breathed once he stood beside Nefin. "But I see exactly what you mean. I feel really helpless in here. I must rely on my magical abilities more than I thought."

"You can't use magic in there?" Brin ascertained.

"Apparently not," Brom conceded, lifting his palm and attempting to light a small flame above the surface of his skin by muttering, "Brisingr." Nothing happened.

"Then let's just go around," Brin suggested. "It seems really risky to put ourselves in a situation where you, Nefin, and Hanna can't use magic, and the hedge only stretches a handful of miles in either direction. I'm sure we could reach the border by nightfall and just make our way to the wall from there."

"Fine with me," Brom agreed, exiting the maze.

Nefin followed Brom out and they both loped off toward the distant boundary of the labyrinth, the others following on horseback.

-:-:-

By nightfall a few hours later, they hadn't reached the end of the long hedgerow. But the horses and youth were weary, so they put up camp for the night with the intention of carrying on in the morning.

The next day, Nefin was nowhere to be seen when the others emerged for breakfast. Ajh told them that the elf hadn't come into their tent at all during the night, and they were beginning to worry when Nefin ran into camp.

He quickly recovered his breath and said, "I continued along the maze all last night. It never ends but endlessly stretches on and on the same seemingly short distance ahead. It must be another type of optical illusion, but there's no point in going forward from here. Whoever designed this obstacle for us either hoped we would waste a lot of time trying to go around or intended for us to go through."

Nefin grabbed a plate and served himself huge portions of the food Ajh had prepared. As he began devouring it, he went on, "I tried jumping up to the top and from one row of hedges to the next, but I was only able to mount this outer edge. All of my efforts to proceed along the top surface were blocked by some invisible barrier. So that is also not an option. And I don't think we should try to take the horses in there. It's bound to be dangerous, and there simply wouldn't be room to move quickly enough with nine large horses lined up in a row. I doubt they could even fully turn around, and we would surely be doing some backtracking."

"But where will they stay?" Zadí worried. She and Hanna had a special way with the animals, who could perhaps sense the gentleness of their natures, and Zadí had grown very fond of their steeds. Though now through the first three months of her pregnancy, it still didn't show, but Zadí had been as grateful as Keeta for the horses' constant service in carrying her from place to place and through the awful weather. The first trimester of her pregnancy had been far more draining than she would have dreamed possible.

"I worry about leaving them with someone," Var responded. "The entrance to the maze is only a mile from the main city gate, so hopefully we won't be gone long. But if something held us up, caring for nine horses is a lot to ask of someone in times like these. Plus, it might make them a target if any of our enemies attacked the animals to set us back."

"I hate to think of them or anyone being in danger," Zadí fretted. "What can we do?"

"I suppose we can picket them in a secluded place in the forest with plenty of grass to graze on and a stream nearby," Brom ventured. "Perhaps the unnatural weather will relent while we are playing the Shade's little game and she has her focus on us. Or I can cast some wards to keep it warm enough that the water won't freeze. We'll leave them with their blankets and surround them with protective spells. That might be the best we can do."

"It's better than nothing," Zadí said. "If at all possible, no matter what happens here in Ilirea, we need to return the horses to Frederick and Marta on our way back to the ship."

Brom and Var nodded their agreement, along with some of the others. So once they finished their breakfast, they rode the horses about halfway back toward the opening in the hedge wall and found a location in the surrounding forest that served their purpose. Everyone who owned any donned their armor. They also brought their shields and weapons. After doing all they could to ensure the horses' safety and comfort, the nine friends covered the remaining distance on foot.

They arrived at the maze's entrance just before midday.

"We better be able to use these in there," Brin nervously muttered, twirling one of her daggers in her hand as they stood and regarded the hidden opening.

"I experimented with that," Nefin said. "I could shoot my arrows without any trouble, though nothing I did damaged the bushes themselves. But I hope our weapons will otherwise serve us."

"Yes," Brin shortly agreed. "Or we're dead. Without magic or weapons, we're nine regular kids."

"You can fight really well with your whole body," Brom reminded. "We'll just pit you against any threats we happen across."

"Thanks," Brin dryly retorted. "Let's go. I can't stand just waiting here."

Since Nefin was the only one who could discern the entry, everyone followed him into the maze.

"How can you even see it?" Keeta questioned.

"I don't see it as much as smell it," Nefin explained. "The real bushes smell like living things. Where there aren't any, it smells like air. But magic also creates a certain sensory effect on the physical environment. I don't know how to describe it, but it's almost like a buzz or a hum. Inaudible even to an elf unless they've trained themselves to be aware of it."

"Impressive," Keeta admired.

Nefin shrugged. "Maybe I'll finally be useful as a tracker."

"It goes without saying that you will lead out," Brom said. "How about the rest of us? We won't necessarily have to walk single file unless you think it best. I'm only going to be useful as a fighter in here."

"I want Brin up here by me," Nefin directed. "She has the quickest fighting reflexes besides me. Then Keeta. She'll be best for potential lower threats or maneuvering through tight spots. Will next. We might need some height and brute strength close to the front. Then Ajh and Hanna. Ajh, protect my little sister."

Ajh nodded firmly.

"Zadí and Var next, with Var behind," Nefin continued. "I know Var wouldn't have it any other way, and we also need someone tall and muscular back there. Brom stay beside Var. You two are the rearguard. Any questions?"

Everyone shook their heads. "Be as quiet as you can," Nefin requested. "I'm going to be listening for that magical hum I just mentioned, and I also want to be able to hear any other clues—moving creatures, breathing, etc. I'll be holding my bow in my left hand, so if I raise my right hand like this," he held it up palm forward at shoulder height, "then stop. I might move ahead to smell things away from the group. I can't use my mind to send mental warnings, so follow any commands I give right away. Sorry to be so serious, but I'm assuming the Shade wants us dead and made this into a fatal trap. We'll probably move slowly so I can examine everything in our surroundings as carefully as possible."

Nefin withdrew an arrow from the quiver slung across his back and nocked his bow, holding both in his left hand. "Weapons at the ready. If you notice any threat that I miss, don't hesitate to fight. You don't need my permission, but be prepared for unexpected magical backfire. Though we can't use magic in here, I'm guessing there are plenty of hidden enchantments at work. Just be alert."

"Do you know whether we need to go left or right?" Brin asked.

Nefin shook his head. "But I'll find out. I think it will be fastest if I go alone, so stay here for a minute." He drew his sword with his right hand and held it out in front of him.

"But what if you get hurt by yourself?" Keeta anxiously questioned. "When you were standing on top of the hedge, could you see anything of the correct course through the maze?"

Nefin grinned down at her, thinking she looked just as adorable as when he had first seen her wearing Rhunön's helmet.

"Unfortunately not," he replied. "The same invisible barrier blurred my vision of the labyrinth beyond this outer wall. But I'll probably be fine. If not, I'll yell or something. Then just run and find me." He winked and slowly moved away to their right, scanning the path ahead with all of his keen senses. When he reached the first bend, Nefin paused and listened for anything around the corner. Nothing triggered any warnings, so he advanced and kept moving.

At each subsequent turn, Nefin did the same by carefully scouting ahead of himself in search of danger. After exploring every possible route, all of which dead-ended, Nefin followed his back trail to his friends.

"All of the forks in that direction ended with bushes. I think we need to go left."

As Nefin began to head off, Keeta pleaded, "But next time we're unsure, let's stick together to find the right path rather than send you away on your own."

"I agree," Brom said. "We need to stay together as a group so no one gets lost and because we have a better chance of overcoming any dangers."

"Absolutely," Nefin consented. "Stay close. Let's show that Shade what we're capable of."

-:-:-:-

* * *

 **A/N:** It has been a crazy week! Sorry for the delay, my friends. We moved and had a ton of stuff to do to get a house we own ready to sell. On top of that, our computer didn't work when I tried setting it back up after packing it, so I wasn't able to work on my story or post for a while. Baby still hasn't come, but we're down to less than a week. I'm sure I'll share whenever it is born. We're heading into some exciting action with the nine friends here, so I'll do my best to keep the updates consistent. Thanks for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts or feedback.


	94. Part II 40 Bloodlust

**40\. Bloodlust**

A dismally overcast sky blocked out any bright sunlight, but eerie shadows nonetheless played over the labyrinth's hedges, which towered more than a foot above Will's head. The vegetation was gnarled and . . . _sick_. That was the only way Will could think to describe it. Though it seemed bushy and green from a distance, up close one could see that the leaves were abnormal and misshapen, the branches gray and brittle—like dusty bones—rather than brown and supple.

This maze was an unnatural abomination, and Will felt the sinister misery of his surroundings. To him it seemed like the maze wanted to die, to cease to exist as abruptly as it had been forced into existence, and to take with it any living thing inside its unearthly walls.

A shiver crawled up Will's spine as a chilly draft ruffled his hair. His eyes darted back and forth, though Will knew he wasn't observing half of what Nefin could. But he hoped they would soon come across a threat he could fight. The amount of time their travels from Feinster took had nearly driven Will mad. Two months! _Over_ two months! And he was now desperate to act, to fight, to crush, to kill. If he couldn't soon, he thought he might go insane.

He was almost positive Tenga had discovered Lena's ring. And since the pull on his own band remained steady all that time, Will worried they truly were walking straight into a trap, which guess the presence of this maze certainly supported.

But what other choice did they have except to follow the draw from his ring? They were lost without it. And Will could now feel that they were closer than they yet had been to Lena's ring. His hope that Lena was on the other side of this maze was overwhelming, and Will could barely keep himself from charging past Nefin and sprinting full-speed to the city gates.

A shrill squeal interrupted his musings, and Will almost tripped over Keeta when she stopped dead in her tracks. He looked up between Nefin and Brin.

At the end of their current path stood an enormous wild boar, pawing the ground with the cloven hoof of its right foreleg and snorting angrily. The giant swine was a tall as one of their horses, with a bristly black hide, beady yellow eyes, and thick tusks jutting from its jaw.

"A Nagra," Keeta breathed.

Nefin raised his loaded bow. "An arrow won't penetrate its hide, Nefin," Keeta whispered. "Nor would one through the eye do much good. Its brain is too small."

"How do dwarves usually kill them?" Nefin muttered from the corner of his mouth, never taking his eyes off the monstrous boar.

"Slicing open their underbellies. We're small enough to fit beneath, though it's a huge risk. Many are trampled to death or gored through the middle during the attempt, which is why only the bravest dwarves ever try."

"Want to give it a shot?" Nefin dryly questioned.

Keeta twittered nervously.

"Only kidding, Keeta."

"Be ready," Keeta warned. "It's preparing to charge, and they're deceptively fast."

"Let me," Will insisted. "Move, Keeta. I'll face this brute. I can wrestle it to the ground. I _want_ to fight it."

Keeta doubtfully regarded Will as she stepped aside. Nefin and Brin also parted.

"Careful, cousin," Brin advised.

"Not a chance," Will defied. He boldly strode forward, wholly unafraid, and unbuckled his sword, which he tossed to Brin.

 _Don't want that getting in the way_ , he absently thought, anticipating this confrontation more than was probably healthy. _You're going down, ugly pig_.

"Come and get me!" Will shouted. The boar tossed its head, squealing its displeasure as it sprang forward.

Will saw that Keeta had spoken honestly about the beast's speed, but he actually started running toward _it_ at the same time, coiled too tightly to wait and not wanting their clash to occur near his friends.

"You have no idea what you're up against, fiend!" Will wildly bellowed. "And you won't be around long enough to find out!"

While he was as tall as the swine, Will knew that trying to halt the Nagra in mid-charge would be impossible. But Will had wrestled with his Uncle Grintuk, who probably weighed close to the same. And this creature didn't have arms or hands.

Right before the moment of collision, Will lunged sideways and snagged one of the boar's tusks, using his forward movement to launch himself onto its back. "I've ridden a dragon bareback, monster!" Will taunted. "Your sharp bristles won't bother me!"

There was no question in Will's mind that he would kill the beast, but he didn't want to do so too quickly. Here was the perfect opportunity to vent some of his pent-up aggression without hurting someone he cared about.

The Nagra snorted in fury and madly tossed its head, stomping around in an effort to dislodge his unexpected rider. Will held on to its ears and clamped his legs around its middle, which only enraged the animal all the more. He laughed maniacally as his crazed mount reared and bucked.

"Is that the best you can do?" he loudly ridiculed. "Well, you'll have to do better to throw a Dragon Rider!"

The boar continued on for several more minutes, never coming close to tossing Will from its back. But when their jerky dance took them too near his friends, who were watching with emotions ranging from fear to amusement to approval, Will sprang off its back toward the rear and roared his challenge.

The Nagra whirled, echoing the death cry and removing sizable chunks of greenery from either side of the surrounding hedges. Foamy spittle frothed around its mouth and dripped down its tusks as it recklessly pawed the ground before once again leaping forward.

As it reached him, Will crouched down and grabbed the boar's slimy tusks, wrenching hard toward the ground so the giant swine would flip over his head and land on its back. The sudden slam into the ground momentarily stunned the Nagra, and Will quickly wiped his hands on his pants before grasping the tusks in a new grip and sharply jerking to the side. The animal's neck snapped, and it began to sporadically flop about, twitching in agonized death throes.

Will yelled to Brin, "Throw me my sword!"

He caught it one-handed, unsheathing it the same second. Feeling more brutal than ever before, Will sliced open the boar's belly in proper Nagra-slaying fashion then beheaded it to end its misery. He sprang back but didn't completely avoid the spray of blood that shot from the beast's truncated body. He breathed heavily for a few moments, his free hand clenched into a tight fist that slowly relaxed as Will forced himself to calm down.

His bloodlust satisfied, Will then felt slightly sickened by the savagery and how he had reveled in it. But the creature had to die for them to move forward, so Will tried not to dwell on it any longer.

He wiped and sheathed his sword, turning back to fall in behind Keeta.

"Guess we can keep going," Will muttered. "I got the urge to kill something out of my system."

"We noticed," Brin responded. "Well done, I guess."

Will shrugged. "Sorry. I've been bottling up my impatience all these months. I think Var was the only one who really knew how tightly wound I was. All better."

Brin grinned and dismissively shook her head. "No need to apologize. If that was the case, you probably dispatched that Nagra more efficiently than any of the rest of us could have."

Nefin nodded his agreement. "Let's keep moving. I just hope you'll still pitch in if we have more monsters to face."

"You better believe it," Will confirmed. And so they resumed their slow advance through the maze.

-:-:-:-


	95. Part II 41 Sizzling and Squirming

**41\. Sizzling and Squirming**

Time passed in a strange way inside the labyrinth. Without help from the sun to give them any clues, the group didn't know whether they had been moving five minutes or five hours. And their crawling pace only lent to the distortion.

So after an unmeasured span of stop and go movement, during which Nefin frequently halted his companions to smell or listen around corners, they came to a long stretch of unobstructed maze. Since Nefin could see that the path was clear and didn't fork anytime soon, he gradually increased his pace while still scanning left to right, high and low. Sensing his friends'—particularly Will's—impatience and gaining confidence by the lack of obstacles, he began moving yet more quickly.

An indistinct ringing in his ear was his only clue of the next test, and he abruptly threw out his hand to stop Brin as he hissed, "Shhh!" Keeta bumped into him from behind.

Nefin sensed the apology she didn't voice aloud, and everyone was even quieter after Nefin's command.

Then Nefin muttered, "Back up. Everyone move back a few steps."

They did as instructed, and Nefin bent over to scoop up a handful of dirt. He tossed it forward on the path. About two feet ahead of them, it hit an indiscernible impediment and sizzled. Sparks flew as the dirt made contact with something that wholly obliterated it.

"That was so close," Nefin shakily confessed. "I only heard it right before we would have walked into it. That could have been us."

"What is it?" Brin asked.

"Some type of magical electrical field, like an invisible lightning bolt," Nefin explained. "I think. I'm not sure how to get by. I wonder if it would deactivate after something living passed through."

"Where's another Nagra when we need it?" Keeta hesitantly joked.

Nefin turned and smiled feebly. "I need to examine it more closely. Maybe there's a gap somewhere, an inconsistency in the spell."

He reached down and picked up a stray stick lying under the hedgerow before walking forward. Then he just stood beside the unseen obstruction, his head cocked to the side as he listened for the faint magical hum. He bent over and continued his examination at waist level before getting on his hands and knees to hear right by the ground.

When he reached the hedge to their right, Nefin paused. Then he tentatively extended the stick through the air toward the undetectable barrier, cringing slightly as he anticipated more sizzling and flames. But nothing happened.

Listening even more intently, Nefin slowly raised the stick a small distance, stopping when the far tip sizzled off from light contact with the enchantment. Quickly jerking the stick back, he then lowered it all the way to the ground without any reaction. Next he moved the small branch toward the right of this safe zone until it stopped at the hedge, again without encountering any evidence that he had breached the barricade. So he carefully shifted his twig left until he lost another inch to the magical field.

-:-:-

Zadí observed Nefin for a time along with the others, but he took so long that she soon dropped her gaze to the ground.

 _I'll probably be just as useless here as in most places_ , she thought to herself. _At least I was able to do some good back in Frederick's village. Acquiring the horses was helpful. Otherwise it might have taken us four months to arrive rather than two. But I still wish I could offer some value as a fighter. Even Hanna is a decent shot with a bow and arrow. If I had a sword I might be able to do something, but I don't._

Zadí sighed and was just about to raise her eyes away from their examination of the earth when a small movement near the border of the hedge caught her attention. She focused on the activity, her eyes widening in fascinated horror as an eyeless white head slowly emerged from the dirt, followed by a plump, segmented body about three inches long.

The gigantic grub held very still for a long while, as if ascertaining that no one was paying it any mind. Then it slowly raised its head and opened its mouth, turning side to side as it scented the air.

Though it made no sound to reveal itself, Zadí thought the maggot must be a burrow grub, and she carefully reached out to brush Ajh's arm. If her guess was accurate, Ajh would most likely be able to confirm it. After all, Galbatorix had used a burrow grub to torture Ajh's mother, and Zadí knew he was familiar with the incident. Ajh turned toward her, a questioning look on his face.

Zadí raised a finger to her lips while pointing toward the ground. "What's that?" she silently mouthed. "Burrow grub?"

Ajh raised his eyebrows and nodded. They both remained motionless, unsure how to proceed when they knew the burrow grub could hop into the air at any moment and divide into a dozen wriggling centipedes that would chew their way through any material in search of living flesh.

Just then, another burrow grub inched its way out of the earth near the place where the first one had emerged. A third soon joined its companions. All three began a slow advance toward Ajh's boots.

Nefin's voice made them both start.

"There's a gap in the spell right here at this lower corner," Nefin informed his friends. "Maybe just over a foot square."

"Nefin," Ajh rasped, "maybe we can test your theory about something living deactivating the lightning wall with these little fellows. Any ideas on how to get them over there without making them split?"

Nefin glanced up in confusion. He followed Ajh's gaze to the ground and sharply inhaled. "Ajh, don't move. Does anybody have something we could trap them in before they mutate? It would be a lot harder to account for thirty-six small centipedes than three huge maggots."

"Here comes another one," Ajh muttered. "How many are there?"

Zadí opened her pouch and withdrew the small glass jar full of smelling salts from Hanna, which she used whenever she felt nauseous due to her pregnancy. Zadí unscrewed the top and dumped the salts back into her pouch, then slowly crouched down behind Ajh, hurriedly scooting the first three grubs into the opening of her container using the lid.

The fourth wasn't right beside the other three, and Zadí's sudden movements alerted it to the danger. It coiled and hopped, aiming for her hand as it descended. But she moved the jar right under it and slid the lid aside just as the maggot landed, quickly snapping it back in place before her other captives could escape. The last grub plopped down inside the jar, splitting into twelve wriggling green worms. These smaller larvae instantly swarmed the larger three, who defensively reared up with their sharp mandibles snapping.

Ajh breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Zadí. As focused as I was on Nefin, I wouldn't have noticed until those things were eating my foot. Would you care to do the honors?"

Zadí nodded and made her way through the others until she stood beside Nefin. "How should I do this?"

"Open the jar pointing forward and let them jump out onto the invisible death trap," Nefin proposed.

Zadí did just as he advised, and all of the squirming grubs instantly sprang out. A symphony of sizzles seared the air as they landed on the fatal enchantment.

Nefin wrinkled his nose at the acrid smell and praised, "Well done, Zadí. I'm glad you noticed those. Any more, Ajh?"

"Not that I've seen yet," Ajh returned. "And I'm paying close attention now. Did it do anything to the barrier?"

Nefin extended his stick, quickly yanking it back when another short segment sizzled away. "It's not all the way gone, but . . ." He knelt back down and measured the gap he had discovered earlier. ". . . I think this faulty area might be slightly larger. Maybe the burrow grubs somehow weakened it. I wonder if a larger living being passing through would have a bigger impact."

He looked over at Keeta with an apologetic expression. "I hate to even suggest this, but you might be the only one who could fit."

Keeta tried to smile bravely, though it seemed somewhat tremulous. "Finally a situation where being so small is a good thing. I'll try. It might be the only thing we can do."

Zadí was studying the ground on the opposite side of the deadly hex, and she reached out to grab Keeta's arm before she could crouch down.

"Nefin," Zadí said, "do you see those little lumps in the earth near the hedgerow right down by the opening in the spell?"

Nefin looked at the location she described. "I do now."

"They're exactly like the ones those other four grubs emerged from. I think they are evidence of more maggot holes. Maybe those four just migrated from a larger colony or something. But I'm starting to wonder if the hole in the barrier is intentional."

Nefin nodded, comprehension dawning on his face. "I think you're right. The Shade might not have expected us to discover the opening, so maybe she hoped to take one of us out before we realized the danger. But then we would have examined the threat more closely and potentially discovered the gap, which we did. And if we tried to send someone through the hole, a bunch of burrow grubs would wriggle out and start eating them."

"What if the burrow grubs _are_ the way to get by?" Keeta speculated. "When Zadí released those first four, it affected the enchantment. So maybe if I could get through quickly enough and a bunch of maggots started coming out, I could throw them into the wall and fry them until it disintegrates."

"You would willingly crawl by a bunch of burrow grub holes?" Nefin summarized.

"If it's the only way everyone can get past without sizzling into oblivion," Keeta confirmed.

Nefin admiringly shook his head. "How will you throw them without having them penetrate your skin?"

Keeta shrugged. "With my axe, maybe. Let's not plan anymore. I'm starting to lose my nerve."

She quickly lay down on her belly as close to the hedge as possible. "It's about a foot wide?" she asked Nefin, pulling her axe off her back.

He worriedly verified, "That's right. I'll hold the stick right at the edge. Keep your head down."

"Thanks for the tip," Keeta wryly remarked.

Aiming for the lumpy ground indicating the burrows, Keeta shoved her axe through the opening in the imperceptible lightning field and hastily followed, pulling herself forward using her forearms. As soon as her scooching disturbed her axe's position, dozens of burrow grubs started squirming out of the ground. They headed straight for Keeta, emitting a disconcerting chorus of _Skree-skree! Skree-skra!_

"Hurry!" Nefin urged.

"Trying," Keeta shot back.

"You're clear!" Nefin exclaimed. "Get away from them!"

Keeta rolled to her left, snatching her axe just as the first burrow grub hopped into the air. She swung her weapon with the blade pointed down so it hit the maggot with the flat side and sent it sailing into the unseen enchantment right at the level of Nefin's face. He jerked back in surprise at the unexpected projectile and accompanying burst of light.

Keeta grinned defiantly as she doomed the next two grubs to the same fate. Staying on her knees, she continued feverishly batting the wriggling maggots to their fiery deaths every time one of them launched itself into the air. Nefin remained near the gap on the opposite side, reaching through with Zadí's jar to help scoop up some of the ravenous caterpillars so their numbers wouldn't overwhelm Keeta.

But despite her amazing dexterity with her axe, Keeta still missed a couple of maggots before they landed and divided into green centipedes. These smaller larvae didn't hop like their condensed form, but writhed alarmingly fast toward Keeta.

The hoard of disgusting grubs continued their eager trek toward Keeta to the grating sounds of their discordant chirping.

 _Skree-skree!_ they enthusiastically cried. _Skree-skra!_

Keeta scrambled backward, exclaiming, "Nefin, roll me the jar! I can't swat these ones! Or touch them! I need something to collect them in!"

Nefin immediately obliged, sending the jar straight to Keeta's waiting hand. He had continuously measured the widening gap and now shouted, "People, this isn't going to stay open forever! It expands each time a maggot hits it then loses some of that progress right after. It's now large enough for even Will and Var to crawl through, but once Keeta runs out of grubs it will start to shrink back down. Everyone get through now! And watch out for the remaining grubs! Zadí, go! You next, Brin! Hanna, get up here!"

Keeta continued her increasingly desperate efforts. Though the burrow grubs didn't slow their advance, she now did not want to run out of living missiles before her friends all made it through.

As soon as Zadí was through the gap, she took over with the jar while Keeta focused on whacking with her axe.

Brin came next, and she simply skirted the two on the ground so those behind her would have room.

"Go, Hanna!" Nefin cried.

Hanna scurried through, followed by Ajh. Brom dove across the boundary, clearing the girls on the ground in one agile leap.

"Hurry!" Keeta screamed. "They're almost gone!"

Will blundered through with Var right on his heels.

"Nefin," Keeta despaired in a low voice as she sent the last grub toward the lightning fence. "Hurry."

Nefin recklessly rolled through, his hair sizzling as he completed his turn and sat upright. He lurched forward and practically landed in Keeta's lap when a leather strap on his quiver disintegrated from contact with the now restored enchantment.

He wrapped her in a tight embrace. "You're amazing, brave Keeta," he breathed. From right beside them, Zadí noticed both of her friends trembling.

"Sorry it was so close," Keeta muttered. "You almost didn't make it."

"But I did," Nefin comforted. "Thanks to you. And I needed another haircut anyway."

Keeta lifted her face away from Nefin's chest, smiling shakily. "Let's get away from here. Please. That horrible sound they made is still echoing in my mind. And I can't stand that smell, which is probably even stronger for you."

Nefin nodded, helping her to her feet. "Let's go everyone. Get back in order. Thank you, Zadí and Keeta, for saving our skins back there."

"And you," Zadí insisted, smiling as Var took her hand and leaned down to kiss her cheek. "You noticed the lightning field."

"We worked together," Nefin compromised. "Let's keep it up."

* * *

 **A/N:** The baby was due yesterday but still isn't here. Just trying to enjoy the holiday with my family and be patient. I know some of my readers are military service people, so Memorial Day seems an appropriate time to thank you for your service and sacrifice.

Hope y'all are enjoying the maze. We have a few more adventures before they get through. Thank you, Megan Lyle, for your one and only review after last chapter. Anyone else still out there? Just a few more chapters of Part II!


	96. Part II 42 Deepest Desires, Darkest Fear

**42\. Deepest Desires, Darkest Fears**

The group continued their slow progress through the maze, proceeding ever deeper into the foreboding passages leading toward Ilirea.

What seemed like hours after the confrontation with the burrow grubs, though it couldn't have been much longer than fifteen minutes, Nefin decreased his pace until he stopped altogether.

"That doesn't look good," he commented on the heavy black mist hanging in the air twenty feet in front of them. "But I'll view it as a sign that we're on the right track. I was starting to worry that the lack of obstacles meant we had taken a wrong turn."

"Way to be optimistic," Brin sarcastically congratulated. "So what new delights do you suppose this next challenge holds?"

"Haven't a clue," Nefin responded. "Let's get closer and see if we can find out."

They resumed their gradual advance, stopping a foot away from the thick haze. Nefin retrieved a rock from the ground and tossed it into the vapor. Nothing observable happened, though the stone was lost to their sight once it entered the fog.

"It smells musty, but I don't hear that magical hum and the rock didn't get vaporized or anything. Shall we step inside and see what happens?"

"Sure," Brin said with a shrug. "Together."

When Keeta started to follow, Brin clarified, "You wait, Keeta. In case you need to drag us out or something. Be ready to help her, Will."

The two nodded their understanding as Nefin and Brin drew their swords, walking one foot into the haze before stopping. Nefin glanced behind himself and was somewhat disturbed to note that he could discern nothing of their friends, though he and Brin had moved such a short distance.

Nefin was completely blind as he faced forward, but before his eyes could adjust to the darkness of the fog, they filled with a vision. His heart skipped a beat as he saw Keeta not behind him where he had just left her, but in front of him.

Stranger still was the fact that this visionary Keeta was naked, and Nefin somehow knew they were married. His eyes widened appreciatively as she seductively smiled, inviting him toward her with a flirtatious beckoning of her hand.

Nefin readily responded, approaching the beautiful girl he loved. He knelt down in front of her, raising his hands to her bare shoulders as he leaned forward to kiss her. But before their lips met, Nefin's hallucination drastically shifted and Keeta was suddenly flat on her back, eyes open and unseeing, an expression of terror frozen on her lifeless face. She lay naked in a pool of blood, her throat slit. A tiny infant—Nefin was certain it was their child—was facedown beside her, suffocating with its face caught in the thick liquid.

Nefin cried out in horror, stumbling forward toward the two before he realized that he held something cold and hard in his hand. He looked down and screamed again as he identified a bloody blade, which slid from his numb fingers as stark understanding gripped him.

"No!" he sobbed. "No! I wouldn't! Ever! I love her! I love you, Keeta!"

Then a different force wrenched at him and Nefin landed on his back, squinting his eyes shut at the brightness of day. He dropped his sword and curled onto his side, repeatedly moaning, "No, no, no."

Someone was talking to him. "Nefin! Nefin, what happened? Nefin, snap out of it!"

The same someone started shaking him, and Nefin slowly opened his eyes, recognizing a worried Brin kneeling right above him. Behind her stood Keeta. Nefin felt a profound sense of relief as he comprehended that the fantasy nightmare hadn't been real.

But it had seemed so real, and Nefin was sure he had actually screamed out loud. "Did you hear what I said in there?" he asked Brin.

She gravely dipped her head.

"I didn't hear anything," Keeta supplied. "What did you say? What happened?"

"Nothing," Nefin firmly stated. "It doesn't matter. Brin, did you see anything?"

Brin now shook her head.

"So the mist might only affect males," Nefin postulated. "Brin, take Kee—Hanna in for a second and see if she is also immune to the effects."

"What effects?" Keeta demanded. "And why did you change your mind to Hanna instead of me?"

"I don't want to talk about it, Keeta," Nefin insisted in a tone of finality. "The vapor somehow creates hallucinations. If it only affects the males, we'll wear blindfolds and stop our ears so we can pass through."

Keeta suspiciously regarded him as Hanna came forward and accompanied Brin into the haze. Nefin turned his attention toward the smoky wall in front of them, trying to push the horrifying images he had seen from his mind.

 _It wasn't real_ , he stubbornly reminded himself. _Only I sort of wish it had been. At least the first part. I wonder if that's really what Keeta looks like without clothes on._

But then the scene immediately following the first again invaded his mind, and Keeta had also been naked in that one.

 _No!_ Nefin defied. _It wasn't real. It wasn't prophetic. I would_ never _do that! But what if we really did get married and have a baby?_

Nefin realized the thick cloud must reveal a man's deepest desires and darkest fears. The Shade seemed to have some secret vendetta against males. Nefin almost wanted to reenter the dense fog just to see the first half of his vision again. If he could only stay lost in that fantasy, he might never want to leave. But the terror of the second half was absolutely paralyzing, and Nefin understood how the vapor was a perfect trap. His male companions would have likely had hallucinations similar to his, and they would have all been utterly helpless to get themselves out.

Brin and Hanna quickly emerged from the magical mist.

Nefin asked, "Anything odd happen?"

"Nope," Brin said.

"Not that I could tell," Hanna answered. "It was just really dark."

"I think after a few moments my eyes would adjust," Brin predicted. "So what do we do?"

"I want all of the girls to go in for a second, just to be sure it won't affect any of you," Nefin said. "While you're gone, I'll tell the men what happened from my perspective."

So Keeta and Zadí then joined the other two females and they all disappeared into the haze.

Nefin approached his friends and bluntly said, "You all know how I feel about Keeta. When I walked in there, I saw an apparition of her naked. She invited me over, and I'm pretty sure about what would have happened next because I could somehow tell we were married. But then the vision shifted and Keeta was lying dead in a puddle of her own blood. Her throat had been slit, and there was a little baby beside her—our baby, I'm sure of it—drowning in the blood."

He shuddered before finishing in a hoarse whisper, "I was holding the knife. Anyway, I think that fog shows our deepest desires and fears. Let's not risk losing any of us by walking in there unprotected. We can cover our eyes and ears—"

"They're coming out," Brom quietly informed. "I agree, Nefin. Most of us would probably see similar hallucinations, and I have no desire to go through something of that nature. Sorry you had to."

Nefin shrugged. "This Shade must be one twisted monster."

When the girls stopped by the circle of boys, Nefin asked, "Hanna, can we borrow some of your bandages to wrap around our eyes? And do you have anything that would plug our ears?"

"I suppose," Hanna said, opening her pouch. "But why, Nefin? None of us girls saw anything in there. Whatever happened to you really shook you up."

"Don't ask, sugar," Ajh softly suggested. "I promise you'd rather not know."

Hanna was clearly confused and curious, as were the other females, but she didn't press the matter. She withdrew a rolled up bandage and handed it to Nefin, who used his sword to cut it into five lengths, one for each male. He distributed them to his friends.

Hanna rummaged another moment and came away with a small object wrapped in paper. "Would some beeswax work?"

"Probably," Nefin said. "I'll try it." He accepted the bundle from Hanna, unwrapped its contents, and pinched off a small amount of beeswax.

"It smells nice," he remarked as he worked the stiff substance into a wad that would fit in his ear. He repeated the process until both ears were stuffed then requested, "Someone say something."

"Nefin's a noodle," Keeta offered with a silly giggle.

Hanna also giggled, expectantly looking at Nefin.

"What's funny?" he asked, removing one earplug.

"Oh, nothing," Keeta nonchalantly replied. "If you didn't hear me, then I guess the wax works."

"What did you say?" Nefin wondered.

"Like I'm telling you," Keeta retorted. "It wasn't bad, but now I feel somewhat better after your refusal to enlighten us."

Nefin grinned. "Good, I'm glad it worked. You others get ready. Brin and Hanna might be the only ones who have a hope of seeing in there after their eyes adjust. I doubt we could light our way with any type of flame, so let's all hold hands or something."

"Should we see how far this obstacle continues before we go blundering in?" Brin queried. "I could try it out."

"No," Brom firmly denied. "Let's stay together and just get through it. I don't like the idea of anyone possibly getting trapped in there by themselves."

"Anyone else feeling hungry?" Ajh pleasantly asked.

"Yep," Var affirmed. "How about we reward ourselves with a snack if we can make it through this challenge alive?"

"Fair enough," Ajh allowed, laughing good-naturedly, which expression didn't quite disguise his apprehension. The other males also seemed to feel it, and Nefin didn't blame them. He both dreaded and anticipated stepping back into the mist.

-:-:-

Soon the boys were ready, and they all arranged themselves in a line connected by hands. Brin stood in the lead, clasping Will's hand in hers. Keeta followed Will, holding his other hand in front of her and Nefin's hand behind. Hanna continued the chain by linking herself with Nefin in front and Ajh behind. Brom joined hands with Ajh, and Zadí stood between her brother and husband, grasping each by one hand.

"All ready," Keeta cheerfully joked, both of her hands up at an angle between the two tall men surrounding her. "Now let's hurry before my hands lose all sensation."

Brin smiled at her friend's easy humor and slowly advanced into the black fog, pulling Will along with her. Brin had also sensed the males' trepidation, and she speculated that Nefin had seen something extremely disturbing in this vapor. His anguished cry echoed in her mind. _No! No! I wouldn't! Ever! I love her! I love you, Keeta!_

Brin forced Nefin's words away, focusing on the task at hand. With her sword raised in front of her, she paused a few steps beyond the edge of the murkiness, hoping her eyes would quickly adjust. After counting to sixty, she still couldn't see any better than at first, so Brin doggedly proceeded, deciding they had best just keep going.

Keeping a firm grip on Will's hand, she resumed her forward march. Since Brin couldn't see anything, she used her sword to feel ahead for the flanking hedges so she wouldn't walk into them. After about five minutes without any trouble, Brin heard Will start to pant anxiously. His hand was now slick with sweat, and Brin realized the haze must still be affecting him, though he couldn't see nor hear.

"Keeta," she softly called. "Can you hear me?"

"Yes," came Keeta's voice, as if from afar.

"How is Nefin doing?" Brin asked.

"It seems like he's starting to lose his composure," Keeta worriedly replied. "How about Ajh, Hanna?"

If Hanna responded, Brin didn't hear, and she started to feel nervous that though her friends were so close, they still seemed separated by a great distance. And each was clutching the hand of a man much stronger than herself. If any of the boys decided to simply remove their hands, the chain would be broken and they might get lost in the mist.

"Did Hanna say anything?" Brin questioned.

"Yes," Keeta confirmed. "Ajh is about the same as these two. And she told me that Zadí made a similar report. Can you see anything? Are we close?"

"I can't see anything," Brin shared. "And it doesn't look like the vapor clears anytime soon, but that's one of its properties. We might be two feet from the exit."

"I hope so."

"Hold hands even tighter," Brin instructed. "And pass that message along. We can't lose them in here."

"No," Keeta agreed. Then Brin heard her relay the directions to Hanna. After a moment, Keeta asked, "Brin, what do you suppose Nefin saw in here? You said you heard him say something."

"I don't know, sweetie," Brin answered. "But I know it involved you and devastated him. Let's please not talk about it right now."

"Of course," Keeta quickly consented. "Sorry to distract you."

They made their way farther for several more minutes, and Brin felt increasingly desperate by Will's tortured groans and crushing grip. Did the magic at work in here affect their thoughts? Could he smell something? Brin had no idea, but at least he hadn't yet tried to release her hand.

"No," Will moaned. "No, Lena. I'm coming, honey. Hang on. Please, Lena. Please hang on for me."

Brin's eyes filled with tears at the utter despair in Will's voice. She made a plea of her own, _Please end soon, blasted mist! I won't lose my cousins. My best friends. Brom._

Brin was most concerned about Zadí, who had Var behind her and Brom in front. But Brom was also holding hands with Ajh. If any of those three men lost it, Zadí would be helpless, especially in light of her pregnancy. And Brin was beginning to suspect that this vapor revealed a man's deepest fears, which was even more disquieting. Var probably entertained some fine horrors in his worst nightmares now that he had a wife and baby on the way.

Brin gasped out loud in surprise and relief when she unexpectedly stepped through the far side of the fog. Could they have only been inside for about ten minutes? Time really seemed warped in this accursed labyrinth!

Brin pulled hard on Will's hand, and he stumbled forward, collapsing to his knees and crying like a baby.

"Will!" Brin hissed, crouching down in front of him as Keeta followed behind, tightly gripping Nefin. "Will, we're out of there!"

Then she remembered that he had beeswax in his ears. "Idiot," she muttered at herself, plucking the plugs free. "Will!" she repeated. "Wake up! It's over. It wasn't real. Just a spell." She ripped the blindfold off his eyes, aware at the same time that Hanna and Ajh had emerged after Nefin.

Will regarded her in puzzlement for a second before his eyes focused and he exhaled in relief. "That was awful," he rasped, crawling away from the threat behind them. "Is everyone else all right?"

"Everyone's out," Brin reported, looking around. "Wait, where is Zadí? Wasn't she behind you, Ajh? With Brom and Var?"

Ajh shakily looked over, tearing his eyes away from Hanna. "Huh?" he blankly questioned.

"Zadí!" Brin exclaimed, springing to her feet. "She's not out here!"

"Get them away from the edge!" Brin then ordered Hanna and Keeta, heading back toward the black vapor. "I need to go find Zadí before something bad happens."

She plunged into the mist, instantly shouting, "Zadí! Zadí, can you hear me?"

"Brin!" came Zadí's panicked scream. "Help me! Hurry! They're losing control!"

Brin rushed forward as quickly as she dared, worried she might bash right into Brom or Zadí. She nearly did just that, and she narrowly caught herself from tripping over Brom, whom she identified after squatting down and feeling with her hands. He was sitting on the ground, arms wrapped around his knees in a tight little ball.

"Help me!" Zadí spluttered in a strained voice. "Var's trying to—"

Brin didn't need to know what Var was trying to do to know that it wasn't good. She left Brom, who seemed relatively harmless at the moment, blindly groping her way toward Zadí.

Brin was relieved that she reached them a second later. Again using her hands to understand what her eyes could not see, Brin speculated that Var was attempting to crush or strangle Zadí.

Var was way stronger than Brin, so she did the only thing she could think of before her cousin killed his wife. Holding him by one horn to guide her aim, Brin drew back her fist and punched him as hard as she could in the face. Var lurched backward in surprise, cursing angrily as he released Zadí.

"Zadí, grab Brom and keep going! The mist ends in another few feet! You were almost out! Hurry, go! I'll get Var to follow!"

Zadí cried out in surprise, and Brin guessed she had toppled over Brom. But she must have grabbed his arm or something as she regained her feet because Brin heard them both moving away from her. She was somewhat gratified to recognize her name in Brom's incoherent gibberish.

Then Brin's sixth sense warned her that Var was about to retaliate for her rude interference, and she reflexively ducked just before he would have repaid her in like manner. She grabbed his arm as he completed his jab, using his momentum to pull hard toward the opening. He stumbled behind her, wildly swinging out with his free arm.

Brin instinctively dodged this punch as well, deciding to tug him by his horns instead so she would be farther from his hands and arms. But Var seemed to think this was the perfect setup to ram her, and as Brin sensed him prepare to charge, she darted out of the black shroud so Var would exit right behind her.

Zadí must have had time to share some of what befell her in the haze, for Will was waiting as Var lunged through. He took Var's feet out from under him, quickly pinning him to the ground. With one hand, Will tore off Var's blindfold—how did it stay on through all that?—and unstopped his ears.

"Var!" Will roared. "Wake up!"

Var immediately stopped struggling. Between ragged breaths he gasped, "Zadí! Is she all right?" He fought Will's headlock as he attempted to look around them.

"She's fine," Will curtly reassured. "But are you in control of yourself now?"

"Yes! Let me up!"

Will moved, but not far. Var propped himself on one elbow and felt his nose, which was bleeding profusely. "Thanks for breaking my nose, Brin," he muttered. "And I really mean that."

Hanna rushed forward. "I can't heal you using magic in here," she lamented. "But let's try to stem the flow." She took the bandage Will had removed from Var's eyes and trimmed off two smaller sections. These she rolled up and shoved into either of Var's nostrils.

Looking quite a sight, Var then pushed himself up, searching for Zadí. She stood beside Brom, tearfully regarding her husband.

"Zadí," Var desperately entreated, sitting back over his ankles and reaching out toward her. "I'm so sorry, sweetie. It was so confusing in there. Someone was trying to hurt you, so I tried to stop them . . . but it was actually you . . ."

Sobbing pitifully, Zadí fell into his outstretched arms, and Var tightly hugged her to his chest.

"I know, Var," she comforted. "I know you weren't in your right mind. I know you would never hurt me. I'm fine, sweetheart."

Var also began to weep wretchedly as he rocked Zadí back in forth. Their friends all witnessed the tender reconciliation for a brief moment.

But a chilling voice condescendingly interrupted, "How touching. And you all made it out alive? Well, that should make this next phase all the more interesting."

Brin jerked her face toward the sound and beheld a lovely black-haired woman with striking blue eyes.

All of her friends looked over at the same time, and Ajh was the one to disbelievingly identify, " _Trianna_?"

-:-:-:-

* * *

 **A/N:** Well, no baby yet. I decided to finally get back to writing last night after several weeks of taking a break. I'm working on Part 3 right now, and I just incorporated a chapter that I wrote months ago. I cried so much that I woke up with a headache. Some tough stuff coming up, y'all. But I hope you liked this one!

Send your good birth vibes my way! Wouldn't 6/1/16 be a cool birthday? Six one one six? My mom, sisters, and I have this weird thing where we like number patterns in times or dates. Our favorite time is 12:34. Anyway, maybe next time I'll be able to share birth and gender details (we waited to find out boy/girl this time, and I'm so excited for the surprise!).


	97. Part II 43 Shadow of a Shade

**43\. Shadow of a Shade**

"Hello, Ajh," Trianna glowingly purred, her eyes flashing with malice. "So nice to see you after all of these years."

Ajh creased his brow in confusion. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm afraid I'm only part of the Shade's little game," Trianna sadly informed, the emotion pure pretense. "I'm not even a real person. Just a shadow. The shadow of a Shade."

"What do you mean?" Ajh questioned.

"Oh, Trianna thought it might be fun to bring me back for a time," Trianna offhandedly disclosed, "so she included me as one of her final challenges. I must confess that I am rather glad you made it this far. She and Tenga didn't expect you to, you know."

Ajh was more perplexed than ever.

Trianna laughed derisively. "Stupid boy," she demeaned. "But forgive me. I shouldn't be so harsh. You haven't any idea what has been going on these past many months. Tenga made a Shade, which I imagine you knew, but before she evolved into her glorious self, the Shade was Trianna. She maintained her identity enough to keep her own name, but she detests her ghastly appearance. So she kept her former exterior alive in her mind. Alive enough, that is, that she could give form to me when needed. With Tenga's help of course. A powerful man, that one, especially with his borrowed energy source, which he used to assist the Shade in creating this marvelous piece of magic—even this splendid maze! And oh how my real-life counterpart covets that power! But perhaps I reveal too much. Not that I need to fear. I'm really only a figment of Trianna's imagination."

"So what's your purpose then?" Ajh coolly asked. "Why wouldn't we just walk by you?"

Trianna laughed delightedly. "I always did enjoy your humor, dear boy! Just as droll as your charming father. But I abhorred your mother. She really had a way of antagonizing magicians. Not very clever, if you ask me. Anyway, my purpose, if you are so keen to know, is to test your intelligence. Not yours alone necessarily, but your group collectively. If you best me, you pass unharmed. If not, Trianna has equipped me with the ability to be very destructive indeed. But she underestimated your capacity to bypass her other tests, so perhaps you will not experience that less pleasant side of my personality. What a pity."

"Fine," Ajh flatly said. "So test us. We're hungry."

Trianna trilled another enchanting laugh. "I do remember your strange fascination with food and cooking. Best not to get in the way of a man and his empty stomach, mother always said. Curse her. Well, it's really quite simple, _your highness_. You must simply tell me riddles. You have three chances to stump me. If you come up with one that I can't solve, you win. If not, I've already mentioned the consequences. Any volunteers to begin?"

The friends looked around at each other. A few eyes lingered on Keeta. "My strength is numbers, not word games," she mumbled. "But I might have one. Do you want me to say it?"

"Oh yes!" the Shade's shadow brightly accepted. "By all means, young lady!"

Keeta struggled not to roll her eyes. "All right. What occurs once in a minute, twice in a moment, and never in a thousand years?"

Trianna raised one hand to her chin, theatrically creasing her brow and pursing her lips. "Once in a minute . . . twice in a moment . . . never in a thousand years? Minute . . . moment . . . a thousand years. . . . Oh, silly me! That's right! Could the answer be, 'the letter m'?"

Keeta nodded and shrugged. "Yep, that's it. Sorry, everyone."

Ajh shifted uncomfortably. Trianna had only pretended she didn't know at first. That much was clear. Would they really be able to come up with a riddle she couldn't answer? He guessed the actual Shade had prepared her shadow well for this challenge.

"I'll go next," he offered. "Since you seemed so taken by my fascination with food, here's one with that theme. Throw away the outside and cook the inside, then eat the outside and throw away the inside. What is it?"

Trianna again pursed her lips, this time in an effort to suppress the smirk of triumph creeping onto her face. "Well, that _is_ a good one. Hmmm. Let me see. I'm not sure, Ajh. You might have baffled me. Throw away the outside. Cook the inside. Eat the outside. Even though you just threw it away? Odd. But then you throw away the inside. After cooking it? Confusing, but I do believe you might be referring to corn. On the cob. Where you remove the husk and cook the corn. Then eat the kernels and dispose of the cob. Am I right?"

Ajh stuffed his hands in his pocket and fought the urge to scowl. "Yes, that's right."

"Well, that's a relief!" Trianna exaggerated. "You had me worried for a moment. Two down. Anyone else brave enough to try? Last chance and then you will experience the destructive power of two very gifted magicians." She rubbed her hands together in anticipation.

"What's going to happen?" Ajh questioned.

"My dear boy," the shadow exclaimed, "I wouldn't _dream_ of spoiling the surprise like that! I do believe you will find out in just another moment. Now who will present me with my final test?"

"I will," Var spat, helping Zadí to her feet as he stood. Ajh glanced over in surprise. But then he realized he could probably guess why Var seemed so irate. This imaginary woman was predecessor to the Shade whose enchantment had so twisted his mind that he almost killed his wife.

"Oh, I do so love a willing participant," Trianna gushed. "And courageous too! If you fail, you and your friends will all die! What's your name, young man?"

Var glared at Trianna, who boldly approached him and admiringly scanned his muscular body.

"My name is none of your business," Var retorted. "And stop looking at me like that. My riddle is—"

"Tut, tut," Trianna gravely reproved. "Where are your manners? Trianna does so enjoy a well-built man, though your face looks rather messy. Alas, I no longer have form to give expression to such pleasures, though I do believe the Shade has glutted herself on more than one occasion. And she has expressed particular curiosity in Urgal rams." She released a sweet little titter, which was anything but innocent. "But if you insist on being rude, I suppose I really can't do anything to prevent you."

"No," Var agreed. "You can't. Ready for that riddle?"

Trianna's eyes glinted hatefully. "But of course," she softly hissed.

"When does eighteen of one and of another not any mean the same thing for a girl in her twenties?"

Zadí looked at Var in surprise, though he kept his steely gaze on the atrocious woman. Ajh and the others regarded him in consternation. But Trianna's bewilderment was most satisfying of all.

She stared at Var for a moment, her eyes narrowed shrewdly. "Eighteen of one and of another not any?" she thoughtfully repeated. "Good question." She turned on her heel and stalked down the path away from the group, muttering under her breath. About ten paces away, she swiveled and strode back. Ajh felt a glimmer of hope. Trianna wasn't putting on an act now.

"Is that a trick question?" she demanded.

"Isn't that one definition of a riddle?" Var returned. "Do you know?"

"Is there even an answer!" Trianna fumed.

"But of course," Var echoed in the same spiteful tone she had used earlier.

"I despise men," Trianna vindictively snarled. "Why couldn't that mist have disposed of you as intended? And yet, I'm obsessed with them. Nothing else provides quite the same pleasure. What _is_ my problem?"

"Good question," Var mocked. "But we're supposed to be asking _you_ riddles, not the other way around. So solve mine or let us pass."

Trianna threw up her hands and screamed like a little girl having a tantrum, "Trianna filled my mind full of hundreds of riddles and answers, but not this! This isn't a traditional word puzzle!"

"You didn't give any guidelines," Var pointed out. "So are you saying you don't know?"

"Yes!" Trianna screeched, stamping her foot in perfect imitation of a spoiled child.

"Well, it was nice chatting," Var pleasantly concluded. "Enjoy your non-existence." He took Zadí's hand and began walking down the trail.

"Wait!" Trianna demanded. "At least tell me the answer."

"Why should I?" Var shot back. "What if you're trying to trick us so we can't pass?"

"I'm not," she wheedled. "I just want to know."

"Forget it," Var said. "Good riddance."

Trianna squealed defiantly but was helpless to stop Var, so Ajh and the rest of their friends fell in behind him and Zadí. The next turn in the hedge mostly drowned out Trianna's angry protests.

Looking ahead, Ajh could see that the maze came to an end in an open clearing right in front of Ilirea's main gate.

As they approached, Will asked, "So what _is_ the answer, Var?"

Var glanced back at him. "When she's pregnant. Zadí came up with it as part of her poem for sharing that she was expecting. I hoped Trianna was like most human women—clueless about her own body."

"Be nice, Var," Zadí reprimanded.

"I didn't mean to sound insulting," he insisted. "But isn't it true that most girls wouldn't have known that?"

"Yes, I suppose," Zadí allowed.

"Wait," Will said. "I know mother taught us to understand the basic workings of the female body, but I still don't get it."

Zadí patiently explained the riddle. "It's really a simple matter," she finished. "If a girl knows when she ovulates by observing the obvious signals, she can simply count to determine when her next cycle should start. And that length of time—which rarely varies in each individual female—is never longer than eighteen days. So if that many actually do pass, she is most likely pregnant."

"Clever," Will approved. "Looks like we made it through the maze."

"But I doubt the fun is over," Ajh dryly commented. "We still haven't faced this Shade character. And her less evil version was absolutely delightful. Anyone still interested in that snack?"

The nine friends quickly ate a light meal before walking to the city wall. Directly in front of it stood an unremarkable table, whereon sat a solitary goblet filled with clear liquid. At the bottom of the chalice rested an ornate key. Beside the cup lay an elaborate square of parchment with these words written in an elegant script:

 _You have made it this far?  
Congratulations, dear friend._

 _But as you likely have guessed,  
The fun is not at an end._

 _Now a brave soul this liquid must drain,  
If entrance to your final test you would gain._

 _Only the drinker may wield the key,  
But hurry they must; poisoned they'll be._

 _Turn the lock and prepare for a shock,  
For death's darkest delights await._

"Pretty good," Ajh critically proclaimed as he finished reading it aloud. "But that last stanza was a little weak. She spelled it right out for us, didn't she? Everyone ready for this 'shock'?" He grabbed the goblet.

"Ajh, wait!" Hanna cried.

He turned and gave her a cheerful smile. "I'll be fine, sugar. Just have that antidote preparation ready. I think we'll need it."

"Ajh, seriously," Nefin seconded. "Let's think about this."

"Why?" Ajh asked. "Someone needs to drink this. I was thirsty anyway. And I haven't been much good in here, like you others. All I managed to do was almost get eaten by burrow grubs and identify one of my mother's crazy spellcasters. Let me pull my weight. I'm sure all those months of drinking power potion gave me some type of immunity to nasty beverages."

He again smiled jovially and downed the contents of the goblet in several large swallows before anyone could offer further protest.

Ajh caught the key in his teeth. He yanked it free and stumbled forward, clutching his throat as it started to close. His vision blurred as he clumsily fitted the key in the lock. Since when did Ilirea's main gate have a standard sized doorway with a small lock, anyway? Never in the time Ajh could remember.

He struggled to focus around the painful burn in his head and stomach, which seemed to be rapidly spreading throughout his entire body.

 _Hurry, dimwit_ , he prompted himself. _Or your brave offering will be for nothing._

Finally Ajh managed to turn the key, and a satisfying click announced his success. He didn't actually shove his way through the door as much as slump forward against it, though his uncontrolled movement had the same effect.

As the entrance swung inward, six of Ajh's friends rushed past him, weapons at the ready. Only Zadí and Hanna hung back. The latter caught his head in her lap before it bashed into the hard cobblestone avenue. Hanna's beautiful, panic-stricken face was the last thing Ajh saw before his eyes slid shut.

 _Fitting_ , he absently mused. _An angel's countenance accompanies me to heaven. At least I hope that's where I'm headed._

And then all was black.

-:-:-:-

* * *

 **A/N:** Still no baby. Hopefully soon! Let me know what you think of the chapter. ~Autumn :)


	98. Part II 44 Death's Darkest Delights

**44\. Death's Darkest Delights**

Ilirea's usual sprawling main avenue did not await the nine youth just beyond the altered gate. After Zadí and Hanna dragged Ajh's limp body through the entrance, the door slammed shut. Echoing booms reverberated around a cavernous chamber that most closely resembled a mausoleum. But instead of handsome monuments to the dead, piles of bones adorned the floor in the evenly-spaced niches bordering the room. Flickering torches affixed to the walls in each of these alcoves dimly lit the vast space in a disorienting jumble of dancing shadows.

Brom immediately made himself invisible and shielded his mind, wanting to be prepared for whatever they might have to face in here. Once the echoes from the closing door died away, another sound filled the immense tomb. Grating stone on stone accompanied the arrival of a solitary figure in the center of the floor, who seemed to rise straight out of the ground.

The personage, whose full appearance was distorted in the shifting light, began clapping.

"Bravo," an emotionless voice extolled, its owner still applauding contemptuously. "You made it through my trap. I am impressed."

Brom mentally warned, _It's the Shade. I'm already prepared to counter her every magical attack. But be ready to fight her physically. I don't sense any other living creatures in here. Zadí and Hanna, just stay down._

Hanna was frantically administering to an unconscious Ajh using the antidote potion Blödhgarm had given her. Now that the elves and Brom's magical capabilities were restored, Brom could also hear her muttering words of healing in the ancient language to slow the poison's spread through Ajh's system.

"And I do believe you were looking for something," the Shade continued, holding up her pasty white hand. A golden ring glinted in the wavering light. "This, perhaps?"

Will took two steps forward. "Where is she?" he shouted.

"You must be Will," Trianna stated. "Brave boy, clever boy. Do you miss her? I'm sure the princess had high hopes that you would rescue her. Too bad you will fail. No harm in sharing where she actually is, now is there? Especially since Tenga can just leave with her whenever he wishes and take her wherever he wants. He has Lena on Vroengard, stupid children. And you will never see her again, for as I promised, the fun is not yet over. In fact, you might say it has only just begun. My master instructed me to kill you all however I wished. Our maze did not function quite as hoped, but I assure you that I intend to fulfill his command. Shall we begin? Let me introduce my friends."

The Shade snapped her fingers as Brin, Nefin, Will, Var, and Keeta sprang forward. Whatever her snap was meant to do, Brom didn't have a chance to block it, for the Shade lashed out with her mind, intending to freeze his companions midstride.

Brom counteracted this spell, much to the Shade's astonishment. She leaped back before the five could surround her, angrily screaming, "Who did that! And how?"

The Shade's wards protected her from Brin and Nefin's first several thrusts. Then Trianna whipped out her sword, deflecting blows from the five fighters' weapons as she cried, "But forgive me! You haven't met my friends!" Then she cackled coldly as the stone lift she had entered on abruptly dropped away. Brin and Nefin were closest to the Shade, and they both staggered as the floor vanished beneath their feet. Will and Var wrenched the two back to safety before they fell through the hole.

Then all five quickly retreated as a new horror emerged from the opening. Trianna tossed the ring into the monster's gaping maw, where it disappeared from sight.

"I would _love_ to see you get your ring back now, boy!" the Shade challenged.

"I'll get it!" Will bellowed. "But you might not be around to see it!"

Brom was so focused on the Shade and understanding her magical efforts that he missed what was happening around the perimeter of the chamber. As did his five companions, whose attention was wholly enthralled by the translucent, eel-like monster slithering through the hole with alarming speed.

Its thick body seemed never to end as it uncoiled. A sleek skull dominated by slit-like earholes and nostrils wove side to side as the creature rose higher and higher toward the domed ceiling. Just behind its head, a spiny dorsal fin ran the length of its muscular body. Two tiny flippers uselessly waggled at its sides, for the beast was not in its normal habitat. Trianna must have somehow adjusted het pet monster's ability to temporarily survive out of water, though it seemed to have emerged from a boggy lair. Putrid water rained down to the tomb's dusty floor, splattering his friends with murky black muck.

When fully free of its subterranean cage, the eel stood thirty feet tall. Visible beneath the glistening transparent skin was the entire network of its internal organs. They pulsated and churned in a sickly green mass, delineated by darker veins and arteries.

The eel released a jarring screech, revealing row upon row of tiny needle teeth. Then it snapped its jaw shut and a ringing clash bounced off the walls of the mausoleum.

"Isn't he beautiful?" the Shade admired with the pride of a doting mother. "He cannot see, but he can hear and smell better than these elves, I'd wager. I made sure he would be hungry today. Such a fine meal he will receive for his patience."

The eel struck out toward Nefin with deadly accuracy, and the elf spun away at a dizzying speed, releasing two arrows in rapid succession toward the abomination's head. Had the creature possessed eyes, Nefin's missiles would have landed perfectly, but it didn't. They sank into the next best target—its ear slits—but the serpentine beast seemed completely unbothered.

"Alas," the Shade mourned, "he cannot feel pain. I believe you will discover that he is harder to dispose of than you think."

Since the Shade had performed so little magic, Brom was rapidly working to mentally reverse her wards, which effort she was completely oblivious to. He thought he had removed enough that Brin now stood a chance of engaging her, so he shouted in her mind, _Brin, attack her! I'll work on undoing the spell she used to protect her pet. She can only be killed—_

 _With a stab through the heart_ , Brin impatiently finished, bounding forward to attack the Shade. _I know! Focus, Brom!_

Brom had only seconds to begin removing the eel's immunity to pain before Trianna started magically assaulting his companions. Blocking these spells became his first priority, for Hanna was too distracted attending to Ajh to be aware of the danger right then.

A distant scream almost registered in Brom's awareness, but he unconsciously dismissed it, automatically focusing on his task as he had so diligently trained himself to do.

-:-:-

But nothing in the world would divert Var's attention from that cry of distress, for it came from Zadí. As Brin leaped forward and slashed at the Shade, Nefin dodged yet another strike from the eel, and Keeta and Will charged forward to assist him, Var whirled around to observe dozens of skeletons descending upon his wife, Hanna, and Ajh.

 _Skeletons?_ Var wondered in morbid bemusement. _Where did those come from? And_ whose _are they?_

Then he remembered the neat stacks of bones piled in each recess of the tomb. And that the Shade had snapped her fingers right after offering to introduce her friends.

 _Friends_ , Var repeated. _Not_ friend. _She was referring to the skeletons_ and _her hideous pet. And she somehow reanimated them so they would move._

And make noise. Each of the skeletons released heart-stopping shrieks of agony and horror. Var shuddered.

The unexplained decrease in light over the last minute also now made sense, for each skeleton brandished the torch from its alcove like a club.

Zadí was right where she had obediently remained by the door. She had grabbed Ajh's sword and stood protectively in front of the two on the floor, bravely wielding the blade and scattering the skeletons' hands, arms, or heads as they began to reach her. But such measures were entirely ineffective, for the skeletons continued moving without their heads and now their numbers were overwhelming Zadí, which was why she had screamed in terror.

All of this Var deduced as he sprinted toward his wife, hollering at the top of his lungs in case the skeletons would respond to it and turn away from Zadí.

Then he heard the Shade screech over the unearthly clamor in the room, "Oh, you have discovered my other deathly delights? How fantastic! Aren't they fun? In life they served a noble purpose indeed, these dear captives. But I thought to myself that it was such a shame to let their bones go to waste in Ilirea's dungeons, so I brought them out to enjoy one last romp. And you really can't hurt them, now can you? After all, they are already dead!"

The Shade crowed maniacally, and the clanging of sword on sword alerted Var to the fact that she ended her rant to focus on Brin for a minute.

Var reached Zadí and began wrenching the ghouls away from her. They viciously swung their torches toward him, never ceasing to emit their jarring screams. He disarmed two of the fiends and used their weapons against them. The bones ignited like fine kindling, and the burning skeletons senselessly staggered about until the fuel was consumed.

"But I did think you would appreciate knowing," Trianna breathlessly though doggedly continued, "that one of them actually knew you. What a delightful character, that Isaac. He seemed to remember you with some fondness, he did. Had a change of heart right there at the end. And provided me with a magnificent experience, inspired by his own crime. Watching him get eaten alive was easily my favorite. There he is right there! Say hello to your old friends, Isaac!"

The skeleton reaching for Zadí's throat with his bone fingers released a harrowing cry. Zadí exclaimed in dismay, and Var jerked him away from her. Isaac—could it really be true?—broke into pieces, which Var stomped into powder beneath his feet.

"I wanted to kill you the first time you hurt her!" he bellowed, struck by a nauseating sense of déjà vu. "Not quite as satisfying when you're already dead, but I'll be grateful for what I can get!"

Var could see that Zadí was about to pass out from the overwhelming _wrongness_ of the situation. "Get down, Izz!" he commanded. "I'll hold them off!"

But right then the skeletons began to retreat, and Var followed them away from his wife toward the others fighting in the middle of the room.

-:-:-

Brin whirled away from the Shade's bold thrust, yelling in pain as the Shade grabbed her long locks, which flew out behind her as she spun. Yanking as hard as she could on the handful of hair, Trianna forced Brin to topple backward while simultaneously knocking her sword from her hand. Brin landed on her knees, already reaching for the dagger in her boot so she could slash the Shade's hand and free herself.

But before Brin could complete this plan, a dozen macabre skeletons closed in around her.

The Shade hissed in her ear, "See if you can get away from me while fighting them at the same time, brave warrior! And while you do, I shall unlace this lovely armor and bare your delicate neck. The mail shirt may block my every thrust, but once it is gone, I will slit your throat! What a shame! And then I do believe I will take it. Never before have I beheld its equal."

Brin kicked out with one foot as the nearest skeleton extended its claw-like phalanges, knocking the torch from its hand. This she caught in her own hand, lashing it out to incinerate the skeletons closest to reaching her.

Brin struggled to distance herself from Trianna, who was doing just as she threatened by unlacing the steel-silk armor around her neck, but the Shade had never loosened her hold on Brin's hair and she couldn't move away at all.

More skeletons swarmed her, and Brin screamed desperately as they continued clawing and swiping, eye sockets gaping and jawbones working in harmony with their harsh wailing. One succeeded in burning through her pants, and Brin's second yelp was both frantic and agonized.

The cold steel of the Shade's sword pressed against her throat. And this blade wasn't dulled with magic. "Say goodbye, sweetheart," Trianna lovingly whispered.

"Help me!" Brin screamed as loudly as she could with the pressure against her windpipe.

-:-:-

Nefin heard Brin's scream over the thunderous din in the echoing chamber. He turned and saw her predicament in the same second. Without even pausing to think, he buried an arrow right into the Shade's eye.

Trianna's blood-curdling shriek somehow surpassed every other deafening sound bombarding Nefin's ears. He watched in fascination as the Shade's stretched skin deteriorated from white to gray, which color also composed the cloud of mist that swirled around her form as it vanished from sight, leaving behind nothing but a heap of clothes and her weapon.

Brin scrambled back over the pile, clutching the gushing cut on her throat with one hand as she continued lighting the skeletons on fire with her stolen torch.

Nefin realized that the Shade's spell to reanimate the ghouls must have worked independently of her immediate presence or vitality. But he didn't dwell on such trivial matters any longer, for the eel again stabbed down toward him right at that moment and Nefin instinctively darted to the side.

Nefin had done his best to keep the monster's attention focused on himself, knowing Keeta and Will weren't fast enough to dodge its attacks. While he had succeeded in this effort, allowing the other two ample opportunity to hack at the beast's body, the pain-numbing spell permitted the eel to fight on and on in spite of its mortal wounds.

As he spun back around to face the creature, Nefin saw Var fighting off another group of skittering skeletons. No wonder he hadn't been able to help Brin! How many of those cursed marionettes were there? That's what they reminded Nefin of—jumping dolls controlled by a deranged puppeteer.

Then Brom shouted, "I've reversed the spell! Kill it now!" This Nefin barely heard over the tormented roaring of the mutilated eel, who could suddenly feel the pain of its grievous injuries.

As it finally slumped down enough for them to reach its vital organs with their blades—Nefin had already pumped them full of arrows from below—Will lunged forward and plunged his sword deep into the beast's heart, which was visible through its translucent skin. The monster howled in agony and thick green blood spurted out around Will's sword, but he didn't attempt to avoid the shower as he dragged the blade through the eel's body toward its stomach.

There he hacked open a gory incision and reached in his hand to feel around. Nefin was repulsed, but he finally understood Will's intention when he withdrew his hand clutching Lena's engagement ring.

Will shoved it in his pocket and assisted Nefin by repeatedly chopping at the eel's body until they severed it in half. Then he turned, apparently ready to help Var subdue the last of the skeletons. But once Brom's mental duel with the Shade ended, he had made short work of exploding the rest of the bony puppets with a single spell.

The Shade had done her best, but her collection of death's darkest delights ultimately failed to conquer.

-:-:-:-

* * *

 **A/N:** So I had my baby this morning (June 5, 2016) at 8:01 am. We had another boy! :) Decided to name him Charlie (short for Charles). Our three-year-old likes Charlie Brown, and it's cute to hear him say "Baby Char-dee." Anyway, about 8 lbs (the scale wouldn't settle on one weight) and 21 inches. The birth was peaceful, but in spite of my beliefs that birth shouldn't be painful, I'm gonna be honest: it hurt quite a bit right there at the end! More than I remember last time. We had him at home unassisted (which basically just means no medical attendant/midwife). He wants to nurse again, so off I go. Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Let me know! Only one more until the end of Part II! ~Autumn :)


	99. Part II 45 Next Step

**45\. Next Step**

While his friends rushed to Hanna, Zadí, and Ajh—perhaps sensing that Brom needed to be alone with Brin for a moment—Brom hurried to Brin's side as quickly as he could in his exhaustion. There he dropped to his knees, his face contorted with fear. Brom raised his hand to Brin's throat and began muttering healing words in the ancient language.

"You won't die," he growled as Brin's yellow eyes listlessly shifted from his face to nothing in particular and back again. "I'm so sorry, Brin."

The spewing blood slowed as Brom healed the gash from the inside out, then only trickling until it finally ceased when he closed up her skin.

He moved his hand to the burn on her leg to repeat the healing process.

"Brom, you're too tired," Brin objected. "Leave the burn. Hanna has some ointment."

"No," Brom denied. "Be quiet."

Brin made no further protest, clearly seeing it would do no good. When Brom finished, she apologized, "Sorry, Brom. Sorry I didn't kill her. Now she'll come back even stronger."

"You think I care about that?" Brom snapped, squeezing his eyes shut against the tears that began burning. "You almost died, Brin!" Two thin trails coursed down his cheeks.

"I can't believe that's how she trapped me!" Brin muttered. "Pulling my hair! Have you ever thought to do that?"

"Yes, I've thought of it, but I never did because it seemed so underhanded."

"And then all those skeletons! If not for them, I think I would have been able to get free."

"I'm sorry I didn't help you prepare better, Brin," Brom hoarsely whispered.

Hearing the change in his voice, she worriedly glanced at him. "Brom, it wasn't your fault. I don't want to fight you anymore before we . . . before we, you know, move on. I'm ready. Let's not wait any longer."

Brom knew what she meant, and he felt a pained expression cross his face. How he wanted to agree with her!

"Not yet, Brin," he softly said. "The Shade _will_ come back, and it will most likely fall to you to face her again. And at some point we have to expect to fight Tenga. Who knows what that will entail. I can't lose you, Brin. I need to help you prepare better. We need to keep fighting. If we get married right now, we might lose focus when it matters most, get distracted by other things. We can't risk that."

Tears now filled _her_ eyes. Brom pulled her into his arms. "I'm so sorry, beautiful. You know how much I want to marry you."

She nodded against his chest.

"Now let's go see how everyone else is," Brom suggested, working to rise to his feet.

"Ajh!" Brin exclaimed as she remembered.

"I think he's fine," Brom wearily reassured. "Hanna must have treated him fast enough. But let's find out. We need to plan quickly now. Time is not on our side."

With their hands joined, the two made their way to their friends. Brom wrinkled his nose at the awful stench in the room, which emanated from burning bones, the muck of the hidden underground lake, and the mutilated monster's corpse.

He and Brin stopped behind Var, who was kneeling with a trembling Zadí clasped to his chest. Another reek assaulted Brom's nostrils, wafting from Zadí's vomit. The horrors of their confrontation with the Shade and her _friends_ must have been too much for his gentle little sister to bear, and the same revolting smells troubling Brom were no doubt more nauseating in her expectant condition.

"How is Ajh?" Brom asked Hanna.

"Unconscious but alive," she tremulously answered. "I think he'll recover."

"Do you suppose we would end up outside of Ilirea's gate if we were to go back through that door?" Brom ventured. "Because we're obviously not on the main avenue."

"I say we try," Nefin proposed, holding a handful of grimy arrows, which he must have retrieved from the dead eel using magic. "The smell in here is about to knock me out."

Everyone nodded their agreement, so they slowly moved toward the door.

"Does anyone even know where 'here' is?" Will asked. He easily looked and smelled the most disgusting, and Brom felt sorry for his friend, who was covered in the eel's thick green blood and other bits of innards.

Will must have sensed Brom's scrutiny. Before anyone could answer his question, he added, "Sorry that the worst odor is coming from me. I'll wash up as soon as I can."

"I have no idea where we are," Brom then responded. "As far as I know, there isn't a place such as this anywhere in Ilirea. Maybe that door was enchanted as some type of portal. Or maybe it's just a mirage. Or maybe the Shade and Tenga built it like the maze and we actually _are_ right inside the main city entrance."

Nefin carried Ajh and Var still held Zadí, so Will reached for the door handle. "Here goes nothing," he muttered.

They emerged into daylight, which seemed blinding compared to the mausoleum's gloom, though the day was still gray and morose. Better even than the fact that they were outside in fresh air, the door had indeed led them right back to the opposite side of Ilirea's main gate. But their best discovery by far was that the maze they had struggled through to arrive here no longer stretched away in front of them. The countryside beyond the city walls extended unobstructed to the distant woodlands.

"Some good luck," Brom gratefully commented. "We need to quickly discuss our plans and get moving. The Shade isn't permanently gone. When she rematerializes somewhere, she'll be stronger than ever. And who knows what sort of new terrors she'll enlist when she does."

Noticing Nefin's downcast gaze, Brom firmly added, "Thank you for saving Brin's life, Nefin. One second of delay and she would be dead. There was no other choice, nor would an arrow aimed at Trianna's heart have done any good. Brin was right in front of her, and the steel-silk would have blocked it."

Nefin nodded, apparently relieved.

Will recommended, "Bathe, eat, and start riding. We need to get back to the ship and to Vroengard as swiftly as possible. Maybe the weather won't work against us every second while the Shade is in limbo."

"Yes, exactly my thoughts," Brom agreed. "And we have no idea when this temporary respite will end. I think it's still the same day as when we started this morning, so the horses are mostly likely fine. We can't ride them day and night without killing them, and we'll need to stop for rest as well. But we'll travel as fast as possible. And I'm going to shield everyone in this group from magical observation, if at all possible."

"Was it difficult to hold off the Shade?" Hanna meekly questioned. "Sorry I didn't help you, Brom."

"No matter, Hanna," Brom dismissed. "Saving Ajh's life was more important at the time because the Shade wasn't directly attacking me, but you others. She must have realized her wards were gone as Brin occasionally tagged her, but she didn't think more of it in light of the chaos and intensity of the moment."

"Do you think that was at all preemptive of what it will be like to fight Tenga?" Hanna asked.

"It's hard to say, but not really," Brom said. "We were a little unprepared rushing in there, but I think the Shade was also less prepared than she could have been. And she was overconfident that we wouldn't prevail. Tenga might also be arrogant, but once he learns of the Shade's failure, he will do all he can to prepare himself. He has had centuries to protect himself with wards, and he no doubt has many powerful magical reservoirs. I think mentally dueling with Tenga will be far more demanding, but I still have the belt of Beloth the Wise.

"And after hearing the Shade's shadow mention how she hated Nasuada and that Tenga created a Shade from Trianna, I think it's probably safe to assume that Tenga and Lena will not be alone on Vroengard. Many magicians have disappeared in recent years as they tried to escape the queen's regulatory measures."

"What if he just takes Lena away from Vroengard, like the Shade said?" Zadí shakily asked.

"We can't think about that," Will insisted. "Lena knows that's a possibility as well as we do. You all know how smart she is. We need to have faith that Lena will figure out a way to stay in one place so we can find her. If Brom can disguise our whereabouts so Tenga can't directly attack us before we reach his hideout, we'll show him that he shouldn't have underestimated us."

"Yes," Var agreed. "Let's get back to the horses, wash up in that stream, and eat some dinner. If we can get started tonight, we will. If not, we'll try to get a decent sleep and leave first thing tomorrow. But it would probably be wise to put some distance between ourselves and Ilirea before nightfall."

Nefin nodded. "Do you think Ajh will be disappointed we didn't try to look around and see what state the city is in?"

"Ajh would agree that we need to find Lena," Hanna declared. "And it's obvious that the best way we can help these people and all of Alagaёsia is to put a stop to what Tenga and Trianna—when she returns—are trying to do."

The youth began walking down the lane stretching away from the city gate. "We found out what happened to Isaac," Brom heard Zadí mutter to Var.

"Yes," Var replied. "I'm so sorry you had to see all that, sweetie. I know how hard it was for you."

Zadí shuddered. "It was awful, Var. I felt no fondness for Isaac, but that sort of death seems so harsh. I mean, eaten alive! And all those bones! Why so many skeletons? The Shade said she thought leaving them in the dungeons would be a waste. And don't you remember how fearful people were whenever anyone mentioned the Shade or Ilirea's dungeons?"

"And increased sightings of Ra'zac," Keeta reminded. "People disappearing at night. The rumors must be true. Could the Shade have been feeding the human prisoners to some Ra'zac?"

"I think that's a real possibility," Brom said. "One we need to be ready for. And even the potential that some of them—if there is more than one—might be nearing their twentieth year."

"Lethrblaka?" Zadí breathed. "Please, no. Father only killed the last two with Saphira's help. How could we fight a flying monster without any dragons?"

"Let's not think about that right now either," Var suggested. "We've been through enough for one day."

The group remained relatively silent for the rest of their walk, though each quietly mused over the new terrors their futures might hold.

End of Part Two

* * *

 **A/N:** I didn't originally anticipate that Part Two would end here, but it somehow worked. Now Part Three will have more fighting and action than it otherwise would have. I hope what you got in these last chapters satisfied your desire to see some conflict, but the youth obviously have more troubles ahead. We'll get into that next time. Thanks for continuing on with me!

P.S. I'm posting this chapter because it was ready to go, but I'm probably going to take about a week off from updating the story to see if I can settle into some sort of a routine with the new baby and my family that involves writing. I do already have about 15 chapters of Part Three written, but I imagine it will be closer to 45 or 50 chapters, kinda like the first two parts, so I have lots more to go before it's finished. I want to make sure I'm moving forward with my efforts so I don't run out of stuff to post. ~Autumn :)


	100. Part III 1 Close Calls

**PART THREE**

 **1\. Close Calls**

Tenga sat in his quarters, reading some of his old notes. Over the past month something had repeatedly reminded him about his pet project, and Tenga decided to refresh his memory on how to usher in an age of light by somehow harnessing lightning. This obsession had occupied Tenga's every waking hour—and a goodly portion of his dreams as well—prior to the high queen's ridiculous searches.

Then he had devoted himself to avoiding detection, for _he_ would be the one to end the age of darkness and ignorance, and all would praise his deed.

 _Savages!_ Tenga thought to himself. _People content to live as savages when they could enjoy so much more! Advancements, inventions, discoveries. Well, I haven't forgotten my quest to uncover the answer. And I was so close before the queen began meddling. And then? Why then I had to go into hiding! How I despise that woman! I hope she and her friends have perished at last on that deserted island! If not . . . I will indeed kill them when the Ra'zac transform. Or perhaps I will first dispose of their children. Then again, the maze and Shade should do an effective job of that. Nine children. Bah! Who knew what trouble nine young children could be! I do anticipate Trianna's account of their adventures through the maze. A brilliant idea, that, if I do say so myself. And I am particularly interested in how the electrical field worked. Dangerous thing, electricity. I hope it took a few of them out for us._

Tenga mused on and on. He was awake at this late hour awaiting a report from Trianna. The previous evening she had scryed to inform that the youth had arrived at the entrance to the maze that afternoon. And should they somehow miraculously make it through their delightful trap, Trianna was prepared to meet them with her final deadly snare, one they would have no chance of escaping.

 _All the better,_ Tenga deliberated. _While I positively abhor certain people, I detest the idea of killing them almost as much. I, who have lived over a thousand years because of my fear of dying, can scarce bear the thought of personally ending another's life. Which seems fitting and yet also odd, when I do so delight in observing their suffering._

Tenga tittered quietly, shuffling through the pages of his records. _No, but I would much rather allow someone else to do my dirty work. Someone like Trianna. A splendid team we make, she and I. I am the mastermind and she the machine. She delights in that instant of expiration when the heart stops beating, the lungs stop breathing, the mind stops working. And the more pain one experiences leading up to that moment, the better. I suppose that's one thing we have in common. . . . When did I become so twisted? I have been far too focused on vengeance for far too long. And since I have taken my revenge, I have been wholly engaged with another development. Lena. Hmm . . . what to think about Lena? I feel like I have never really understood the girl. And why should that surprise me! Ancient bachelor that I am! The idea that I would comprehend a teenage girl is laughable indeed!_

Tenga chuckled again. He was always in high spirits when he studied his innovation. But thinking about Lena focused Tenga's thoughts on his recent obsession with her. And that fixation served to temporarily distract him from his current scholarly efforts.

Tenga arose from his desk and left his study, walking the short distance to Lena's room and quietly opening her door. Unsurprisingly, she was asleep. He crossed the floor to stand by her bed, gazing down at her lovely face, so peaceful in slumber.

 _What a strange phenomenon,_ Tenga reminisced. _Sleep brings an almost unearthly beauty to some. How she reminds me of Angela. I would sometimes watch her like this when she was under my care. Unlike Angela, Lena's skin is an attractive light brown, though her hair is the same. Black. Curly. But her eyes are also different. Angela's were dark and mysterious while Lena's are light and clear. Which feature has never permitted me to better discern her secrets. Surely she has secrets hidden somewhere in that intelligent young mind of hers. But she never acts like she has anything to hide. Whenever I pry, she lets me right into her thoughts. And all I see is her sitting in the garden surrounding her gazebo. The gazebo is the key. It must be._

Studying Lena while she slept rekindled the other passion, one Tenga remembered with great fondness from his younger years. After centuries as a bachelor that urge had all but faded, only reawakening when he was once again in the company of a fair young lady. Even very old men could still feel that desire, as Tenga knew all too well.

 _Perhaps I would proceed farther in my attempt if I initiated it while Lena was asleep,_ Tenga speculated. _She really doesn't need to be looking at me, reciprocating my attentions. I could even keep her asleep. I only need her body. Nothing can compare with that sensation, especially not a young and healthy virgin. Yes, I do believe I shall try._

Tenga twitched his head at the indistinct flicker in his awareness, which reminded him of a mosquito buzzing by his ear. Before he could focus on it, he remembered his experiments, his ambition, his life's work.

 _No, I needn't waste my time on such trivial pleasures,_ he decided, turning away from Lena's bed. _I must focus if I am to accomplish my goal. All of Alagaёsia will one day revere me as the supreme magician and inventor of all time. And when Trianna scrys, she will contact the mirror in my study. I need to be there when she does._ He exited Lena's room and headed back to his quarters, stopping with his hand on the doorknob.

 _But what was that buzzing . . . ?_ Tenga absently wondered, and his mind worked for a moment to pinpoint the subtle distraction. _That has been happening rather frequently of late. Always when I contemplate stealing Lena's virtue. Could something be interfering with my thoughts?_

This possibility greatly disturbed Tenga, who always considered himself unmatched when it came to mind control and magical skill. And for some reason, that disquiet made him think of Trianna, whose excessive and almost repulsive obeisance had recently been a less and less convincing disguise for her greed and ambition.

Tenga imagined that the Shade aspired and plotted to one day displace him, though she knew such a feat was impossible so long as he had Bid'Daum's Eldunarí to aid him. Perhaps Tenga had been too open and trusting with Trianna. He had never explicitly shared his secret power source with her. But he had taken it with him to Ilirea so they could fashion the labyrinth in such a short amount of time, and the Shade had undoubtedly sensed the dragon's magnificent strength.

 _You will need to be more careful and guarded about how you use the Eldunarí_ , Tenga cautioned himself. _Allowing it to fall into any other magician's hands would be your undoing. And Trianna wouldn't hesitate to kill you if she gained possession of Bid'Daum._

Tenga still hadn't entered his room, and his new worry about Bid'Daum once again derailed his intentions. He changed plans and continued on down the hallway, heading out of the building toward the Rock of Kuthian.

 _I shall check on my weapon_ , Tenga determined. _Ensure his safety and continued indifference. Can't have him waking up and suddenly resenting that I am borrowing his vitality. It would take months and months—years, even—to force such a being into submission, if I could at all. I would imagine his power is great enough to end my life if he so desired. Perhaps by influencing the air particles surrounding us. He couldn't cast a spell, necessarily, but Eldunarí have ways of manipulating their environment and even encouraging certain outcomes from great distances._

Tenga entered the Vault of Souls when he arrived and descended the long stone corridor to the chamber beneath the surface.

"Here you still are," he stated as he stopped in front of the white Eldunarí. "Just where I left you." Tenga twittered at his silliness. "No threat down here, are you? But you're still just as withdrawn as when I first discovered you. For the best. As far as I'm concerned, you may remain just as distant and apathetic for all of time. I will protect you from any harm, old dragon."

 _While I'm down here, might as well check my other captives_ , Tenga decided. _If they aren't simply two skeletons by now._

Another gratified chuckle accompanied him as he circled the colossal white orb. He was somewhat surprised to find the Caretakers huddled together on the floor where he had initially deposited them months earlier, still just as naked and looking almost as healthy as ever.

"Still alive?" Tenga questioned in consternation. "How is that possible?"

The twin sisters said nothing as they blankly stared up at him.

"I want an answer!"

The silver-haired elf distantly responded, "We obtain food from the orchard and vines directly outside of this cavern."

"What about water?"

"We purify the water above using magic," the other sister replied.

"Of course," Tenga muttered, for that was precisely what he also did. Slightly louder he said, "Well, I suppose you are doing no harm. Can't leave the island, now can you? But should you ever try to turn against me, I will not be as lenient."

He cursorily glanced about the chamber. "Thought I'd find another set of bones down here. Wonder what became of that accursed werecat. Have you ever noticed anything?" he demanded, again regarding the twins.

"When you first brought us here," the first woman replied, "we saw a small skeleton. It so disturbed us that we cast it over the edge of that pit into the lava below."

"I see," Tenga said with smug satisfaction. "Good riddance, I say. Well, I can't stay long. Expecting to hear from someone." And he turned without another word and retreated back up the stone passage.

-:-:-

Iduna and Nёya remained in their affected stupor until Bid'Daum ascertained Tenga's full departure.

 _He is gone_ , the dragon informed.

"Good," Nёya breathed. "Thank you for warning us in time to remove our clothing and hide the other evidence."

The Eldunarí did not acknowledge her gratitude.

Swiftpaw then emerged from her place of retreat, once again a young girl with her arms full of clothing and the small basket of necessities from Lena.

"Thank you as well, Swiftpaw," Iduna echoed. "Twice now you have assisted us in our deception. We are surprised but thankful that Tenga's arrogance hinders his full perception of the situation. He has never examined this vault with his mind, nor confirmed our words with a mental evaluation. He is too trusting, too certain we are helpless to defy him."

"Did Bid'Daum learn anything useful?" Swiftpaw asked, handing over the clothes.

 _I studied Tenga's mind only briefly for fear of his notice,_ the dragon shared. _When I distracted him from again attempting to attack Lena tonight, he was more aware. He realized that something might have been meddling with his thoughts, which troubled him and inspired his late night call. The nine youth searching for Lena arrived in Ilirea yesterday. He fully expects that the trap he and the Shade devised will succeed in killing at least some of them. That is all I learned._

Bid'Daum was the sole occupant of the Vault of Souls who could sense anything beyond the mile of mountain between them and the surface. But he could only barely touch Tenga's mind from down here, and all of his effort whenever Tenga was on Vroengard was to discern whether he meant to threaten Lena and to keep him from accomplishing such a design.

"Bid'Daum," Nёya respectfully began, "what will we do if some of those nine youth make it here? Can you assist them at all? When will you start refusing to help Tenga?"

 _I must not withhold my help before that final confrontation occurs,_ Bid'Daum explained. _Prior to that, such a decision would be premature. Tenga would then endeavor to make me comply. He is a powerful magician, and even were I to attempt to thwart him or end his life, he has no doubt taken many precautions to protect himself._

Bid'Daum had only been able to threaten Lena's life because she had no skills with magic usage. Tenga, on the other hand, was an exceptional wizard whose wards no doubt protected him from the simple method Bid'Daum had employed to restrict Lena's airflow. But he said nothing of this to the Caretakers, who were wholly unaware of his and Lena's contract or that the dragon had nearly strangled her to death.

The dragon continued, _I can only resist such compulsory measures to a certain extent without my flesh body. There is every likelihood that I could withstand him temporarily, but it is not a risk I desire to take when a miscalculation or false sense of arrogance on my part would cost Lena's friends their success. When I finally do refuse to help, I will entirely shut myself off. If Lena's friends are engaging Tenga, he will have no choice but to deal with them and will not be able to focus on me. Tenga will not be able to steal my vitality, but nor will anyone else. If I were to open myself to assist any of Lena's friends, Tenga would also be free to continue borrowing my strength. Whenever that battle takes place, I must not be a part of it on either side. I hope her friends are prepared to face him on their own._

"I see," Nёya thoughtfully replied. "I hope so too. And I suppose we also ought not to be involved."

 _No_ , Bid'Daum sternly agreed. _We cannot risk your lives. You both must stay out of harm's way until the Dragon Rider pact is reinstated. And since I will necessarily not be able to magically sustain your lives at that time, a prolonged magical effort would be foolhardy indeed. You might send yourselves to your graves._

"Is the spectral dragon still safely stored with you?" Iduna asked, referring to the iridescent dragon that had once been tattooed across her and Nёya's bodies as a physical representation of the Dragon Rider pact.

 _He is safe,_ the white dragon confirmed. _He will remain in my heart of hearts until the time comes for him to resume his more permanent position on your skin. Right now he is little more than a collection of colors and light, a memory of what was and what hopefully will once again be._

"Thank you for your efforts," Nёya intoned. "We are indebted to you."

Bid'Daum again refused to recognize her words. He was not acting out of a sense of altruism. And he fully expected any credit he accumulated to be rewarded by the terms of his and Lena's agreement. He cared not for gratitude nor respect. In fact, he had almost come to prefer Lena's rash impertinence, though it had irked him so at first. At least it was refreshing. And at least she had promised to do something to end his insufferable time in this accursed land. Passing into the void would indeed be a welcome escape. Until then, Bid'Daum could keep up his own pretense for as long as needed. He was accustomed to waiting, and he had already existed for what would amount to hundreds of human lifetimes. Yes, he would keep waiting and pretending and exerting himself only inasmuch as was necessary to fulfill the contract that would end his own life.

-:-:-:-

* * *

 **A/N:** Well, it's been closer to a month (rather than a week) since I last updated. I guess the end of Part Two wasn't as exciting as the end of Part One because I only got reactions from four readers. But I officially started working on the story again last night, so I decided I would start posting again. I would really love to hear what more of you think. Reader feedback motivates me to keep going! ~Autumn :)


	101. Part III 2 Detained

**2\. Detained**

The nine youth did indeed leave Ilirea that same evening, after Ajh had recovered enough to stay in the saddle in front of Hanna. Though they were exhausted from the demands of navigating the maze and confronting the Shade, they nonetheless rode long past nightfall.

Since their steeds could now graze on the abundant greenery accompanying an early spring after such a wet winter, they journeyed in a direct southwestern course from Ilirea toward Frederick's village at the southeastern tip of the Spine. When they stopped that night, they were perhaps eighty miles outside of Ilirea. They had not pushed the horses at a full gallop, but encouraged a swift pace for nearly four hours.

They pressed on at dawn after a few hours of deep sleep, riding hard along the Ramr River. The constant storms had in fact relented, and the biggest problem they foresaw in that regard was running into flooding or deep mires as the unnatural snowfall began to melt. But the horses were more rested than their riders, and so the companions traveled until their mounts also needed respite later that afternoon.

They decided their rushed beginning had distanced them enough from Ilirea that they might safely make camp for the evening, though everyone knew that Tenga could travel far faster than they. But Brom continued his efforts of disguising their presence as they raced across the land, and all they could do was hope luck would continue favoring them.

After setting up camp and eating a filling meal, Brom sought out Will and asked if they could speak alone. Will readily consented, accompanying Brom as he walked away from the circle of tents.

"What is it?" Will asked, studying his friend, who looked haggard from his ongoing magical exertions.

Brom passed a hand over his eyes before answering, "I've been thinking about something the Shade's shadow told us. She really did reveal more than either Tenga or Trianna would have likely appreciated. She said something about Tenga being a powerful man, especially with his borrowed energy source. And then she said that the Shade coveted that power. I have no doubt that she meant the Eldunarí Tenga had with him when he came to the Isle and took Lena."

"The Eldunarí that you think might have come from Bid'Daum, the first bonded dragon?" Will specified.

"That's right. And can you think where Tenga might leave such a valuable possession when he isn't carrying it around with him?"

"Easy," Will answered. "The Vault of Souls, especially since he's on Vroengard."

"Exactly what I thought. I have no idea what to expect once we get there, Will. Like you said a few days ago, we have to trust that Lena has figured out a way to stay in one place and to keep Tenga from using that Eldunarí, or our time there will be short indeed. But if she has, I think there's a chance we will need to enter the Vault of Souls."

"Which one can only do by speaking their true name," Will stated, understanding what Brom was getting at.

"Yes. I know mine, Will. Do you know yours?"

"No. But I'll discover it."

Brom nodded. "We have time right now while we're traveling, but we may have little opportunity once we arrive. And if there's any chance that Lena will be in the Vault of Souls, I know you would want to be able to immediately go in."

"You're right. Thank you, Brom. I'll learn my true name before then. You should get some good rest tonight. You need to be fully recovered before we get to Vroengard."

"I'll do my best, but Brin and I need to practice."

Will grinned, though it felt a bit rusty. "Whatever you say. Just take care of yourself."

They then went their separate ways.

-:-:-

Since they had camped so early the previous night, the group felt better rested the following morning. They started on their way before dawn, intending to bypass Helgrind that day. They deviated slightly east from their otherwise unerring course in order to give that dark landmark a wide berth.

By about midafternoon, they had slowed the horses to a walk. Brom continued riding, but Var, Will, Nefin, and Brin were trotting alongside to give some of their mounts a break.

Nefin abruptly stopped jogging and pulled Keeta's horse to a halt. _Brom, we just walked into a trap._

Brom then communicated to the rest of their friends, _Everyone stop. We've stumbled into some sort of camp. Or at least the outskirts. Sorry I didn't notice sooner. I'm focusing on hiding us from magical detection, and I asked Nefin not to use his mind to scout the environment so as not to draw attention_.

The others reined in their horses and looked around in confusion. Empty wasteland stretched away from them in every direction as far as the eye could see. Not even Helgrind's peaks were visible on the western horizon.

But Nefin pointed at the large mounds of earth surrounding them at irregular intervals. Right then a flurry of movement demanded their attention, and the heaps of earth—which were actually coverings the color of the landscape—flew away as two dozen ferocious warriors leaped out of hidden dens.

The horses snorted and skittered as the tall men howled wild war cries, brandishing long spears with leather tassels and collections of small animals' skulls and teeth dangling from the ends. Their skin was as dark as Ajh's, though they were clad only in loin cloths. Elaborate painted patterns adorned their torsos and faces, and long knotted hair jutted from their heads in carefully designed spikes.

 _Don't draw your weapons_ , Ajh muttered through the mental link Brom had created. _They'll attack immediately. Right now they're only trying to intimidate us. These are warriors of the Wandering Tribes_.

Brin and the twins lowered their hands from their sword hilts. Nefin dropped his bow back to his shoulders.

 _So what do we do?_ he asked Ajh as the men surrounded them and closed the circle with what seemed rehearsed precision and timing, spears pointed toward them.

 _They want the horses_ , Brom shared.

 _So what do we do?_ Brin repeated. _We could take them, but I don't feel like murdering in cold blood._

 _I agree_ , Brom said.

 _I'll speak with them_ , Ajh offered. _And translate in your minds. Some no doubt know the common tongue, but they would probably pretend they didn't. My mother insisted Lena and I learn the main dialect of the Wandering Tribes. Even if theirs is slightly different, they should still understand._

While speaking aloud in a strange language, Ajh mentally continued with words his friends would understand, _Greetings noble warriors of the Wandering Tribes. My name is Ajihad. I am son of Nasuada, high queen of Alagaёsia and daughter of Ajihad of the Wandering Tribes. We mean no harm as we pass through your lands. We are but humble travelers._

The men stopped their advance, glancing at one another in surprise and confusion. Eventually their eyes settled on one man, the tallest and broadest, who must have been their chief. His muscled forearms sported a motley collection of long scars, evidence of many triumphs in the Trial of the Long Knives.

Ajh translated as the chieftain shouted, "Humble travelers? And where did you get these fine horses? Our clan was robbed of a dozen handsome steeds some weeks ago, and these animals are clearly of Wandering Tribe stock."

"We earned them in a fair trade with a man who lives near the Spine," Ajh replied, ever interpreting. "We did not steal them."

"But perhaps you acquired them from the ruffians who raided my tribe," the warrior suggested. "Come with us. We will fight if you attack."

 _Brom?_ Ajh asked. _Should we fight and get away or go with them?_

 _Let's just go with them_ , Brom wearily advised. _I'm too tired to magically influence a peaceful outcome, and I don't want to kill these men. They have wives and families. The hard times are affecting them, same as everywhere else. He's telling the truth about the raid. We'll slip away tonight._

So the nine allowed themselves to be led away between the two dozen warriors, who guided them toward a well disguised camp in a nearby copse of sparse scrub and trees.

Women and children peered out from behind lowered tent flaps, curious about the capture and arrival of such a varied group.

All of the nine submitted to the confiscation of their packs, weapons, and pouches. But their captors each departed in different directions with these items, and the friends began to worry that reacquiring their belongings before they attempted to escape would be harder than they thought.

 _My potions,_ Hanna worried. _Brom, the belt! We have to get those things back!_

 _We will_ , Brom reassured.

 _What about the horses?_ Zadí queried. _Will they be safe?_

 _Yes, but the men mean to ride them far from here so we won't have easy access to them. They suspect from the quality of our weapons that we are formidable fighters._

 _We need the horses_ , Will insisted. _We were actually making good time for a change. Was this the best idea, Brom?_

 _Would you have preferred to cut down over twenty men in cold blood?_ Brom challenged. _Left the same number of widows and even more fatherless children? We can still get away. And we'll call the horses back to us. They recognize my mind, as well as Zadí's, Nefin's, and Hanna's. I think we'll be relatively safe from Tenga—if he's even looking for us—hidden here with these people, so I'll just pause my other efforts and try to rest a little until late tonight. I'm sure we'll be heavily guarded, but Hanna, Nefin, or I can easily cause anyone watching over us to fall asleep._

The Wandering Tribe warriors bound the prisoners and sat them in a clump near a communal bonfire.

 _Doesn't anyone recognize you, Ajh?_ Var asked at one point. _Does your heritage or royal status make any difference to them? They answer to your mother as high queen, don't they?_

 _My grandfather left his native people decades ago,_ Ajh replied. _Probably close to fifty years. There are so many clans and they're so spread out that it would be ridiculous to expect them all to know the name Ajihad. And while the tribes do respect my mother as sovereign of Alagaёsia, they still have their individual chiefs who govern the affairs of their own community. The Wandering Tribes are less involved in the politics of the land. Some of the younger people might recognize me, since I know some attended the Human Choosing Ceremony last summer, but I don't know what good that would do us._

The evening passed slowly and dully for the nine friends. Their guards did not offer them dinner, and all of them were impatient for the chance to escape without inflicting injury. That seven former Dragon Riders, two of whom could still use magic, were allowing themselves to be held hostage was ridiculous indeed. If only these nomads knew the importance of their captives' quest!

As night fell, the tribe gathered for what seemed an important ritual. Several men carried large rawhide drums on leather straps around their shoulders. They lined up in a row to one side of the bonfire, followed by a sting of young women dressed in colorful tribal costumes. The latter encircled the fire and joined hands to form an unbroken chain.

The men began to pound the drums in slow unison, deep thumps that echoed through the darkening night. After the first three strikes, the young women struck a pose, clapping their hands in the air. With each subsequent beat, the girls assumed a new posture.

 _This must be the Drum Dance_ , Ajh guessed. _I've never seen it, but it is a traditional dance performed by the tribe's young women to win favor from their gods. I doubt they are performing it in our honor._

 _No,_ Brom verified, _they are dancing to protect their tribe from the evil sweeping the land, of which they believe we are a part. Ironic, when capturing us directly interferes with what they want._

 _It's a pretty dance,_ Zadí commented. _But I'm so hungry I feel like I'm going to pass out. And thirsty. Do you think they would give me food if we told them I'm expecting?_

Var looked at his wife in concern. They weren't sitting by one another, and his worry was obviously intense.

 _I'll ask after the ritual is over,_ Ajh promised. _I doubt they would interrupt it now that it has started._

With nothing else to do, they watched the Drum Dance proceed. The drummers' rhythm gradually increased with every passing moment, as did the dancers' pace. Each new position soon bled into the previous. Before long their hands and feet were whirling, the beads on their costumes clacking a rapid accompaniment.

At last, when the dancers were twirling so wildly that they seemed actually to be flailing, the drummers smacked their drums with both hands and left them there, stilling the reverberations. But the echoes bounced through the darkness for several moments longer.

Then the men carrying drums silently filed away and the dancing girls slowly straightened from their final stance, chests heaving from the vigorous exercise and sweat glistening on their ebony skin. They turned as one and also began to retreat, followed by the remaining members of their clan. Only those assigned to watch the nine youth stayed behind to fulfill their duty.

Translating for his friends, Ajh asked the nearest warrior, "Sir, one of my friends is expecting and she is very hungry and thirsty. May we have some food and drink for her?"

The man contemptuously looked down at Ajh, over at his companions, then around the small circle of prisoners, his eyes lingering on each of the females. He once again glanced at the other guards, now with a lewd grin twisting his features. The others returned the distasteful expression in like manner, and four of the nine men walked over to stand behind each of the girls.

"No, you won't be doing that," Brom quietly remarked in the common tongue. "If you try, we will kill you. I know you understand me. We haven't fought because you haven't, but we would defend our friends and could kill your whole tribe, though we have no desire to do that. You knew we would try to escape tonight, and so we will. Shall we do so now? We can cause you to fall asleep or fight and subdue you. Not that you seem to be very concerned with honor, but which would be more acceptable?"

"You think you can defeat us?" the man mocked in a heavily accented dialect. "We are the tribe's greatest warriors and you are unarmed."

"That doesn't matter," Brom calmly continued. "Seven of us here were once Dragon Riders. We would prevail."

"Even outnumbered five to one?" the man challenged.

"Even then," Brom confirmed.

"We shall see," the man spat, turning on his heel and motioning for two of the men to follow him.

 _Here we go,_ Brom thought. _This might not be as smooth as I hoped, but the fewer men we face, the fewer will have to die. Hanna, put these other six men to sleep. Nefin, start calling to the horses. I'm worried that trying to find our things will take the longest. They are scattered all over the camp, and I wasn't able to keep track of every person and which direction they went. I'll have to start searching minds._

The remaining six guards had slumped to the ground before Brom finished his message. As he magically loosened his bonds, a young woman silently approached them and signaled the youth to follow her.

"Come quickly," she urged in a much clearer command of the common tongue. "Several of the young people from our clan attended the Dragon Rider Choosing Ceremony last summer. We immediately recognized all of you except for the dwarf, who wasn't there I don't think. My female friends and I declined to participate in the Drum Dance tonight, claiming we didn't feel well. While the others were performing or watching, we snuck from tent to tent and recovered your belongings. I hope we found them all."

By this time all of the youth had freed one another from their restraints, after Brom had untied Var and Will. The girl stopped in front of a tent and lifted the flap aside.

"Brom," Nefin informed, "the horses are actually quite close."

Brom raised his eyebrows, and the girl hurriedly invited, "Come in and get your things. I'll explain while you do. We must not delay!"

They swiftly entered the tent. As the youth began tying on pouches, retrieving weapons, and shouldering packs, the young woman continued, "My brother and some of the other young men in our tribe also attended the Ceremony and Camp. They volunteered to go after the horses. One of them is the chief's son, so he rode out during the ritual and informed the men guarding the horses that his father wanted them back. The ruse worked, but we won't fool everyone for long. Hurry! Follow me!"

She exited the tent through a rear flap, the others following her out. When the girl started running, Var swept Zadí into his arms so they would keep up with the others while she quickly ate and drank.

Brom said, "We can sense where the horses are. How about you return to your tent so you don't get in trouble. Will you be punished?"

"If they find out, definitely," the girl responded.

"Then think your friends' names and faces right now," Brom instructed. "I'll see them in your mind and come up with some way to protect you while we leave. Thank you for your courage and help. You have no idea how important it is for us to be on our way without interruptions, and we had no desire to kill any member of your tribe."

The young woman nodded, already turning to go. "You're welcome. Good luck." And then she disappeared into the night.

"We have everything, right Keeta?" Brom questioned as they reached the horses. "You would know better than anyone."

"Yes," Keeta confidently answered. "I checked everything off in my mental inventory as we recovered our belongings."

"And I can sense the belt of Beloth still hidden at the bottom of my pack," Brom said. "They must not have had much time to rummage through things, which is good. We're going to need to gallop away for as long as the horses can in case their horsemen pursue us. Nefin, Hanna, I know you're as hungry as the rest of us, but are you up for some running? Then we can have a few fresh horses for Will and Var to rotate through. They're the heaviest."

"Absolutely," Nefin consented. "After sitting still for so many hours, I'd like nothing more."

Hanna offered her agreement. So without further ado the six who would be riding mounted up and they fled into the darkness.

-:-:-:-

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks for all of the reviews and messages, even from those reading my other story! I know a lot of you have started at the beginning of _The Cycle Continues_ and made your way all the way through until here. I'm honored that you're continuing to read and enjoy my work. Keep the feedback coming! ~Autumn :)


	102. Part III 3 Shade's Failure

**3\. Shade's Failure**

After three days of hearing nothing from Trianna, Tenga finally could wait no longer. At breakfast that morning he informed Lena, "I travel to Ilirea today."

"Very well, Tenga," she replied. "Do you have any special tasks for me to attend to while you are away?"

"No, girl. Stay out of mischief."

"Yes," Lena agreed, returning her eyes to her plate. Tenga thought he could sense her worry and he suspected as always that she knew far more of his plotting than he would have liked, but he was impatient to be off. He needed to learn why the Shade had failed to report to him.

Remembering his commitment of two nights earlier, when he had vowed to be more careful with Bid'Daum's Eldunarí, Tenga simply retrieved from his quarters several of his most powerful stones to bolster his strength while he engaged in his magically accelerated form of travel.

He realized that the Shade's lack of contact might be a ruse. Perhaps she had not failed, as Tenga feared, but had succeeded in disposing of the nine children and now refused to inform him so he would begin to worry. Maybe Trianna was waiting in Ilirea for Tenga to show up with Bid'Daum so she could implement some devious scheme of attempting to steal the Eldunarí for herself.

Tenga would not risk allowing that to happen. Though he regretted that his stones were not better stocked with energy right then, for Tenga hadn't recently bothered to replenish them, he was too anxious to take the time to address that. He would be fine.

So he swiftly departed Vroengard, flying across the ocean and over the land at a speed to rival a dragon. Tenga did not travel as quickly as he could have in an effort to conserve the energy in his stones for his journey back to Vroengard. So rather than the usual five hours, his trip lasted ten.

The first troubling evidence he encountered once he arrived in Ilirea was the absence of the labyrinth. He and Trianna had designed the obstacle to disintegrate at the Shade's command. Tenga had also secretly included a spell that would result in the same outcome—even the disappearance of the maze—if the Shade was defeated or killed, though he obviously hadn't informed Trianna of this condition. No reason to convey any doubt in her methods, nor to worsen already resentful feelings.

Trying to be optimistic that the Shade had simply ordered the labyrinth to vanish, Tenga approached Ilirea's main avenue. All signs of their long magical efforts were slowly dissolving. The small enchanted doorway no longer occupied the main gate. The entrance to Ilirea actually stood slightly ajar, and Tenga pushed the tall, heavy gateway open with a magical shove.

Their masterfully crafted mausoleum was also gone, but the reeking stench of rotting flesh assaulted Tenga's nostrils as he passed into the city. There lay the corpse of Trianna's special pet, magically modified and enhanced for its special purpose, at which it had obviously failed. So too, apparently, had her idea to reanimate the skeletons from the dungeons, which plan Tenga had quite favored. These macabre details often escaped him, but Trianna seemed an endless wellspring of creativity when it came to gruesome matters.

Tenga's eyes next fell upon a small heap in the middle of the cobblestone avenue. He walked over to it and crouched down, rifling through what he quickly identified as clothing. Nearby glinted the Shade's weapon, bloodied along one edge of the blade. A great deal of dry blood surrounded the area as if it had spurted from some grievous wound, and Tenga felt a sense of morbid curiosity at what had transpired during the battle that had clearly resulted in Trianna's defeat. But had she been killed? Or merely disembodied for a time?

If the former, all the better. Tenga didn't want to worry about insurrection from a powerful Shade, one he himself had specifically created to be mightier than any other. Tenga remembered the strength of the spirits he had called upon to inhabit Trianna's flesh. Though perhaps only half a dozen of the wraiths had actually formed the Shade, their size, strength, and malignancy were far deadlier than dozens of weaker spirits combined.

If the latter, then Tenga must tread carefully indeed. For Trianna would reform at some future point stronger than ever before. Regretfully shaking his head, Tenga stood and brushed off his hands.

 _Revolting stink_ , he peevishly thought. _I need to leave this place. But what became of the nine? Surely not all survived! The Nagra they might have dispatched with ease, seeing the state of Trianna's horrid pet. But the electrical field must have destroyed at least one! And the burrow grubs were to emerge when the enchantment was breached! It couldn't have been faulty! I created it with my own expertise. The mist should have rendered the males useless or uncontrollable. What of the Shade's shadow! I always worried that might be a risky idea. Who knows what she might have revealed! And another certainly succumbed to the poison! Could they truly have escaped every snare unharmed? Impossible! I must find them!_

Tenga turned and stalked out of the city, continuing on down the lane beyond the gates. _With a corpse like that lying in the main entrance to the city, it's no wonder this place feels like a ghost town_ , he muttered to himself. Not a living soul was visible, but Tenga didn't care. Nor did he worry about the Ra'zac.

 _Let them roam free_ , he grimly thought. _Invoke greater dread and chaos in the land, for all I care. When the time comes, I will seek you out and enlist you to my cause. But first things first. Where are the youth? Troublesome children. We most certainly underestimated you, now didn't we? Just as I did with Lena, but I will not make the same mistake again. Do you really think you can outsmart old Tenga, I who have lived over a thousand years! Bah!_

Tenga soon found evidence of their horses' hideaway. _So they are on horseback, are they? Well, they won't long outdistance me!_

The old magician immediately sped after the trail, which was now a few days old. _At least the tracks weren't covered with snow or washed away by rain,_ Tenga thought. _Trianna might have taken the weather manipulation a trifle far. But the children did not remove the evidence of their departure? Foolishness._

He was so bent on his objective that Tenga forgot to keep tabs on his energy reservoirs. Not until he was tumbling toward the earth below did he realize that his stores were exhausted, and so too was his own vitality. With the last strength in his body, Tenga slowed himself before he would have experienced a fatal collision with the ground.

There he lay in stunned exhaustion, on the brink of death because of a careless mistake. _Am I getting soft?_ he wondered in bemusement. _How could I make such a thoughtless yet significant oversight? And what am I to do? I haven't the strength to replenish my stones, let alone even get up and walk on my own two feet. I am stranded in a barren wasteland with naught but the sand and dunes surrounding me for miles upon miles. I might have at least had the sense to draw of the living greenery in Ilirea before departing with such haste. But . . . there is always life, even in a desert. Though it may be hidden, if I wait long enough to recover, I can borrow from the small insects and creatures burrowed under the ground._

So with no other choice available, Tenga simply remained where he was, breathing weakly with his face in the sand and his empty stomach rumbling painfully. He slipped into a dazed stupor as he waited to regain some energy and was aware of very little else for an indefinite length of time.

-:-:-:-


	103. Part III 4 Rest and Resume

**4\. Rest and Resume**

After their encounter with the nomads, the nine youth resumed their frantic pace across Alagaёsia. The only slight obstacle they had to overcome was the swollen Jiet River. Rather than ford it at the most convenient place in line with their route, they rode south until they came to the well maintained bridge just east of Feinster. The structure was built high over the waterway and far enough out on the banks from the usual water level that the current flooding did not affect its soundness. Here the nine crossed to the opposite side.

They ran into no further trouble and so arrived in Frederick's village only three weeks after leaving Ilirea. The horses, who had been cooped up in a barn for so many years and whose trip from south to north had been slow indeed, seemed actually to enjoy the vigorous exercise. Their riders never pushed them beyond the point of exhaustion, and the grazing opportunities only increased the farther south they journeyed. The winter had been exceedingly wet—thanks to the Shade—and now the early spring promised to be mild and fair.

Three months to the day after departing from the small coastal town at the tip of the Spine, the youth returned. Frederick, Marta, Sara, and Freddie were overjoyed to welcome them back into the inn for a time. Business had dramatically improved for the innkeeper, but he found room for his special guests during the few days they meant to stay and recuperate.

Brom was particularly in need of this rest, for he had maintained his magical efforts the entire duration of their travels and wanted to be fully energized before heading to Vroengard where he expected to face Tenga.

Sara was thrilled by the now obvious proof of Zadí's pregnancy, for she was eighteen weeks along, or just under halfway through. The two reunited like old friends, and Zadí was equally thrilled to learn that Sara had befriended a respectful young man who loved Freddie and had begun to court her.

The townspeople recognized the boon to their village resulting from the upswing in the innkeeper's livelihood. Frederick now accepted guests of all races if they happened through the small town on their way from Belatona to Feinster, or to and from any other destination.

The other residents attributed the subsequent improvement in their town's overall economy to the nine youth's work in helping Frederick recover his business three months earlier. Thus it was that when the friends returned, no hard feelings awaited them. All of the villagers gladly received them, and they celebrated the arrival with a merry spring festival.

Zadí found opportunity during their brief respite to share news of Isaac's ultimate fate, and none of the four most concerned were terribly upset save Marta, his adoptive mother. She shed a few tears to learn of her son's sad end, for she never gave up hope that even the wickedest person might turn away from their wrongdoings and amend their ways.

But her grief was short-lived, for she had Sara and Freddie, who looked like they would soon have a husband and father, respectively, to love and care for them in a way Isaac never had.

Their intended few days of rest stretched into a week, but the nine youth then unanimously agreed that they needed to continue their journey. A trek up the beach with several wagons full of the supplies Frederick had stored for them revealed that the ship was in perfectly sound condition. The cove had been the ideal location to anchor their vessel while away, and the absence of any food provisions had ensured that no hungry animals ventured near.

Zadí was especially grateful that this next leg of their quest would take place aboard the ship rather than on horseback. Her small though growing womb now made sitting in a saddle or riding long distances wearying indeed, and she looked forward to sailing, even if it meant another bout of seasickness.

-:-:-

Brom and the elves did not magically speed their journey as they had earlier on. Now that they knew they would face Tenga—and potentially more spellcasters—when they reached Vroengard, the three decided it would be better to arrive a few days later but fully strengthened rather than sooner with diminished energy.

Instead of harnessing the wind, the elves and Brom replenished the stones in the Riders' blades, which Brom had depleted during their race across the land. He still hadn't dipped into the store contained within the belt of Beloth the Wise, and he didn't plan to until at last he confronted Tenga. But the three magic users decided having the stones as additional backup would probably be wise and doubted they would have much opportunity for transferring energy when their travels ended.

Though they were not helping, the weather was favorable for the first week of their voyage, and the ship made it around the westernmost arm of the Spine.

Brom and Brin engaged in a fierce duel almost daily. No longer were these the somewhat teasing affairs of the past. Both knew their lives depended on Brin being as prepared as possible.

She now always braided her hair and tucked it under her shirt during their matches. And she wore the steel-silk armor, insisting that Brom not dull his sword so she would be more motivated to fight at her best. Brom used any and every conceivable method to subdue her that entered his mind, and Brin fought each contest with single-minded focus.

The others also seriously engaged in combat training, wanting to be prepared for any eventuality. Since Brom was so busy testing Brin, Nefin replaced him practicing with Hanna so she could continuing honing her ability to counter magical attacks. Nefin cast the spells while Hanna worked to oppose them. She also reviewed the many protective wards she knew, perfecting those she thought would be key in defending her non-magical friends from magical aggression.

-:-:-

One night as they cuddled together in the captain's bed, Zadí murmured to Var, "I'm halfway through my pregnancy, sweetheart."

"That's so exciting, Izz. Will I feel the baby soon?"

As if the baby had heard its father, Zadí felt one of the increasingly common and more noticeable flutterings within her womb press into Var's side.

"There's your answer," she said with a giggle. "Did you feel that?"

"Yes!" Var exclaimed. "How amazing!" He moved his large hand to her belly and rested it there. Another faint movement reached for him. He grinned before kissing Zadí's forehead.

"I'm grateful your pregnancy didn't make you seasick again. I was really worried."

"Thank you, Var. I was a little worried too, but I guess I finally found my sea legs. Maybe the baby somehow helped."

"Maybe. I can't wait until this summer when it will be born. Around Keeta's birthday, right?"

"That's right."

"I want a daughter," Var declared. "Who looks just like you."

"But with your eyes," Zadí stipulated. "They're so beautiful."

"Thank you, Izzie, but she would need to have your eyes. They're even prettier."

"How about a combination. Gold-flecked green or something."

"Fine," Var agreed with a laugh. "And we could call her Izzie."

"But that's _my_ name," Zadí teasingly protested.

Var chuckled again. "I'm sure we'll come up with something. Today is special for another reason."

"Yes. Our five-month anniversary."

Var nodded. "Aren't you proud I remembered?"

"Well done, sweetheart," Zadí praised.

"But I did more than remember. I have something for you."

Zadí's face lit up. "Really! What?"

"This," Var answered, reaching into his pocket for the gift. He pulled out a long chain with a pendant on the end, which he placed on her open palm.

Zadí examined the necklace, loving the simple beauty of the gold chain and heart-shaped pendant. This she held closer to her face as understanding dawned on her. "A locket!"

"That's right. Open it."

She quickly obeyed, opening the locket to discover only one tiny picture within. It portrayed her and Var dancing on the ship with a lovely sunset in the background. Her face was turned to the side and resting against his chest, while his was down at an angle, his cheek pressed to the top of her head.

"How beautiful," Zadí admired. "Did Brom help you with this?"

"Yes. I thought it might be appropriate. Dancing has always been our special thing, and you've told me how you love the sunsets on the ocean."

Zadí looked at his face as tears filled her eyes. "Thank you, sweetheart. I love it. We can put a fairth of the baby in the other half after it's born."

"I like that idea," Var approved. When Zadí hid a yawn behind her hand, he smiled and added, "Sorry, sweetie. I'll let you get to sleep."

"Wrap me up tight when you have to take over at the wheel," Zadí requested. "Though now that the weather is warming and the baby growing, I'm not nearly as cold as I used to be."

"I'll tuck you right in," Var promised. "Like I always do. And I'll be back before you wake up."

"Mmm," Zadí happily mumbled. "Sounds good. Love you, Var." She turned her face up as he leaned down so he would kiss her lips, then she snuggled back into his shoulder and fell asleep listening to his heart.

-:-:-:-

* * *

 **A/N:** Sorry, y'all. I've had these first dozen or so chapters written for a while, but try as I might, whenever I intend to sit down and work on my writing for a time, something else comes up. I want to be sure I'm making good forward progress with the story, or eventually I'll run out of chapters to post and leave you hanging much longer. But I know where things are headed and there is some good stuff in store. Thanks for all of the reviews and encouragement. Though I've said it before, I'll say it again: such feedback motivates me more than you can know to keep plugging away. I'd love to hear your thoughts or reactions. Until next time, ~Autumn


	104. Part III 5 Bound

**5\. Bound**

Weeks after Tenga crashed to the earth, he still had not sufficiently replenished his stones to feel comfortable restarting his chase. He drained of life every small insect, reptile, or critter he happened across and ate their corpses to stay alive, but such scanty contributions did not add up to the amount of energy required to sustain his swift traveling pace. Even the meager magical effort of drawing off the earth and living creatures or lighting a fire to cook the flesh and stay warm exacted a toll on Tenga's reserves, and it felt as if he took a step back for every two steps forward.

Acutely frustrated by his foolish lack of foresight, Tenga modified his plans and decided to return straight to Vroengard from this accursed desert. There he would enjoy hot meals prepared by Lena and warm beds and clean clothes.

By now the nine youth might have made it back to their ship. And while Tenga would soon have enough energy to travel to them, would he have enough to magically duel with them? He knew from Trianna's spying that three were elves who could presumably still use magic. Tenga didn't want to risk an encounter where he was outnumbered with no energy reserves to draw from.

Yes, he would revisit Vroengard long enough to recover and replenish all of his stones with Bid'Daum's Eldunarí. And then he would determine what to do about the children. In little over a month, the two eldest Ra'zac would metamorphose into Lethrblaka. Perhaps they would take part in his plan. But if the youth were sailing on the ocean, neither the Ra'zac nor the Lethrblaka would do Tenga any good. He was familiar with their deathly fear of water.

Would the children really return to their ship? Tenga was disturbed to realize that he had simply believed they would head to Vroengard.

 _But how could they?_ he wondered. _Do they know Lena is there? They no longer have her ring to guide them, though they may remember the direction of the ring's previous pull and assume it was leading them to Vroengard. I must be getting soft to feel so apprehensive about—threatened, even—by nine young children._

 _Or Trianna may have revealed the location of my sanctuary. We always did share the same sense of invincibility, and she might have felt that doing so would be harmless. Which it would have been. Even if she did, it is of little consequence. If the young people truly do journey to Vroengard, I shall simply let them get within a day of the island and then leave with Lena. After all they have put me through, I will delight in teasing them in this manner. And after that, they will never again have a hope of finding Lena._

Tenga cackled self-indulgently and viciously sucked the life from a small spider that sped across his path, funneling its life force into his gemstone and plucking the arachnid off the ground by one curled leg. He dropped it into his mouth with a dramatic flourish, as if downing a rare delicacy, and cackled once again. Muttering and stumbling, Tenga continued his unsteady westward march across the wasteland.

-:-:-

Lena hardly knew what to think when over a month passed and Tenga did not return from his trip to Ilirea. Dozens of various possibilities played through her mind. Her favorite was the scenario where the Shade had failed to stop her friends and Tenga was so furious that he challenged her to a duel, during which they killed one another off.

Lena realized such thinking was probably wishful, but she didn't know if or when she might expect her captor back. She spent a great deal of time in the Vault of Souls, enjoying the Caretakers and Swiftpaw's company. They were far better than a hundred vile, hostile magicians, though these rarely interacted with Lena.

If Bid'Daum was ever aware during her visits, he and Lena simply tried to ignore one another. Neither could verbally speak of their contract while the other three were present, and the dragon seemed to despise the elves' glowing praise of him, which they thought was wholly deserved. Lena thought otherwise.

She saw that the first furious words she had screamed at the dragon before he finally awakened were fairly accurate descriptions—apathetic, selfish. But not stupid. No, not that. Bid'Daum was anything but stupid.

-:-:-

On one particular day while in the Vault of Souls, Lena learned what the elves had done—with Bid'Daum's help—to ensure that Tenga couldn't take her away from Vroengard.

"We have magically bound you to this island," Iduna informed. "With many different types of spells, somewhat similar to wards, but only in that they will prevent a certain outcome from befalling you. We have layered the enchantments so that Tenga will not easily be able to reverse them right when he becomes aware of them. We hope that if he does try to leave with you, it will be in a moment of desperation."

"And when he cannot," Nёya continued, "we hope he will be forced to focus on other matters rather than undoing our spells."

"Thank you," Lena said. "I don't think I would have thought of something like that, but it's probably the best method. Then you don't have to directly stand against Tenga. Would you be able to use Bid'Daum's strength if it ever came to that?"

"Bid'Daum has explained that when he does not prevent someone from borrowing his vitality—as has always been the case with Tenga—he is in a state where any magician around could do the same. In other words, he cannot selectively help one magician while blocking another. So in that situation, if we were able to rely on Bid'Daum, so too would Tenga."

"Which means that he also won't be able to help Brom if they make it here," Lena immediately deduced. "I suppose it does seem fairer that it will be magician against magician. If either one could draw off Bid'Daum's strength to the exclusion of the other, neither would stand a chance. I just hope Tenga doesn't try something bad before then. If they even make it. I don't know how they would know for sure that I'm here."

Lena sighed gloomily then went on, "But that's something I wanted to talk to you about today. Tenga has been away for seven weeks. Something had to have happened to him, but I can't possibly guess what. Anyway, maybe he's not coming back. Perhaps we should try to escape from the island. If Bid'Daum could help you, don't you think we would have a decent chance?"

The elves thoughtfully considered this for a moment. The werecat form of Swiftpaw then unexpectedly exclaimed, _Speaking of Tenga, I do believe he is approaching through the tunnel!_

Lena sprang up in surprise. "Are you sure?" she demanded, casting about for a hiding place.

 _Yes!_ Swiftpaw cried. _Hurry, find somewhere to hide!_

There wasn't anywhere. The crevices in the walls were too small, and there were no ledges on the sheer drop to the molten lake below. So Lena did the only thing she could think of. She dashed behind Bid'Daum's Eldunarí, praying Tenga wasn't searching for her and would exhibit the same level of imperceptiveness he had during the other visits he had made to check on the Vault's inhabitants, of which the elves had told her.

Swiftpaw likewise retreated to her usual hideout, and before long Lena heard the scuffling sounds indicating Tenga's arrival.

His breathing sounded labored, and Lena thought the muffled thump that next reached her ears might have been Tenga collapsing to the stone floor.

 _Is he hurt?_ Lena wondered. _Exhausted?_

Silence reigned for a very long while, during which Lena's curiosity and apprehension increased. Finally she heard Tenga begin muttering to himself, though she could not understand his words.

Then, abruptly, Bid'Daum's Eldunarí vanished and Lena found herself standing directly across the resultant vast space from Tenga. He might not have noticed had Lena not gasped in surprise and alarm. But her vocalization caught his attention and he looked over in consternation.

Lena was shocked by his appearance. He was thin as a skeleton and filthy as a wallowing swine. His beard was matted with mud and fragments of plant life, his robes tattered and also caked with grime.

"I was just going to find you," Tenga said. "I'm glad I don't have to search. Though my energy reservoirs are now fully replenished, thanks to Bid'Daum, I had no desire to . . ." He trailed off as comprehension dawned on him. "But what are _you_ doing down _here_?"

Lena opened her mouth but had no ready response, so she reclosed it and remained quiet.

Tenga began a slow march toward her. "You _have_ been down here," he stated, the previous calm gradually giving way. "Doing what? No, no, let me guess. Helping the elves. Am I right? Of course I am! How else could they have survived? On apples and raspberries alone! And my suspicions were correct! You _were_ gathering the fruit for reasons other than to make me fine treats! Bah! I _was_ too trusting, too lenient. And I _am_ growing soft! To think that such a deception has been happening right under my nose for how many months now? Seven! How easily I might have learned the truth had I but verified their claims with my mind. But I never suspected anyone would try to thwart me! Why would anyone attempt such madness when I have _him_? Bid'Daum! Nothing, no one, can stand against me and prevail!"

Tenga reached Lena and seized her arm in a surprisingly strong grip, considering his skeletal fingers.

"Come with me, young lady," he barked. "We are leaving Vroengard once and for all. Would you like to know why? Never mind, never mind. I shall simply _show_ you once we get outside."

He dragged Lena out of the Vault of Souls and flew her through a canyon to land on one of Aras Thelduin's peaks. The fire mountains were lush and verdant in the humid spring weather, and the beautiful greenery provided an ironic contrast to Tenga's black rage, which was so vehement that Lena was almost sure she could see it.

"There!" Tenga cried.

Lena followed the direction he pointed his finger and gasped again. Will and Var's ship was just visible on the horizon. They _had_ survived! And they had come! How close they were!

"Will," she whispered, her eyes brimming.

"You will never see your beloved Will again," Tenga remarked in a tone of cold finality. "For we are leaving and he no longer has your precious ring to guide him."

Tenga had never released her arm, which was aching from his crushing grasp, and he now jerked on Lena while once again leaping up, intending to take flight in his usual way. But Lena remained firmly on the plush carpet of green moss, and Tenga floated a good twenty feet away before realizing that she was not with him.

The elves' spells! They had worked! Lena wasn't leaving Vroengard, and Will would be here within a matter of days!

Then Tenga was back by her side. "What is this?" he demanded. "Come with me!"

He again tried to leave with Lena in tow, and again he failed.

"What is going on!" Tenga fairly screamed, his fury redoubling. "Why won't you come with me? What trickery is at work?"

Lena said nothing, keeping her eyes glued on the ship as if she could see Will standing at the helm. _Will, I'm waiting!_ she cried out in her mind. _You came for me!_

Then Tenga slapped her face to get her attention and Lena turned to him, clutching her cheek as new tears of pain stung her eyes.

"Answer me, girl!" Tenga shouted. "What is going on?"

Lena shrugged. "The elves bound me to Vroengard."

"Did they now?" Tenga seethed. "You want to _stay_ here? FINE!" He bellowed the last so loud, spittle flying from his rank mouth, that Lena cringed back and covered her ears.

Tenga flew her back to the Vault of Souls and reentered, dragging her as awkwardly as possible. Lena stumbled in her efforts to stay up with him. When they reached the underground cavern, Tenga shoved her into the wall. Using magic to control her limbs, he stretched her arms straight out and slightly above her head while simultaneously bending her knees so she wasn't standing fully upright nor kneeling all the way down.

Magical lashes erupted from the stone behind Lena, snaking around her wrists, upper arms, and neck so she couldn't raise or lower her body at all. Her legs were already trembling in the semi-squatting position.

"If you so dearly want to be bound," Tenga raged, "then I'll bind you here, spiteful wretch! And I will take these two away with me and do the same with them on the other side of Vroengard so they will be unable to return the favor of helping you stay alive. Maybe you will starve to death like that worthless werecat!"

Lena's eyes filled with tears of pain and desperation, and Tenga twittered mirthlessly. "A just punishment for your ongoing pretense. And your friends will also experience the fullness of Tenga's wrath! No more miscalculations for old Tenga. I will kill them all using Bid'Daum's strength and bring their bloated bodies down to join you after they wash ashore. Perhaps you and Will shall end up together after all."

He chuckled delightedly at his morbid suggestion and turned toward the Caretakers. "Come, you two," he said, almost cheerfully now. "Off we go! I have a new home for you. I do so hope you enjoy it." The elven sisters disappeared from before Lena's eyes just as Bid'Daum had, and she knew Tenga had magically stored them along with the Eldunarí. Without a backward glance, Tenga disappeared into the gloom of the tunnel.

Hoping Bid'Daum would hear, Lena shouted these words in her thoughts, _You promised to help my friends find me! Please help them!_ Lena couldn't even hang her head in despair because of the stone binding encircling her neck. Doing so would make her suffocate. So she closed her eyes as the tears streamed down her face and begged, "Hurry, Will."

-:-:-:-

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks for your reviews and comments after Chapter 4 (or 103). I'd love to hear what you think of this one! I know most of my readers don't read the reviews after each chapter, so I'm sorry to do this, but one guest reviewer asked me an interesting question. Since I can't PM that particular reader, I'll briefly respond to his/her concern right here, though it will seem off topic since I haven't written about Willow for many chapters. The question was about Willow's two identical twin pregnancies and now a triplet pregnancy and how unlikely such a scenario would be in real life. To be honest, the only reason I had Willow have twin girls after Will and Var is because Varhog always wanted the first two to be daughters who would grow up just like Willow. And since I'm the author and can write certain details however I want without regards to what would be statistically likely in the real world (and this is a make-believe fantasy story), I just did it. The reason Willow is now expecting triplets is that I wrote in the Epilogue of _The Cycle Continues_ that she and Varhog had an even dozen children, but when they left on the anniversary getaway, they only had nine. It was merely an easy way to bring the number up to twelve, as well as add a little drama to the story. So, dear reader, sorry for my shallow reasoning. Your speculation was much more stimulating. Of course, if I tried to write an explanation somewhere in the story involving talk of genetics and latent genes, some other reader would inevitably comment that people in Alagaёsia, even the Dragon Riders, would not be likely to know about such things. It's hard to make everyone happy. I'm sorry to write something that ended up really bugging you. :) But thanks for reading and complimenting the story.


	105. Part III 6 Prize

**A/N:** This chapter contains a mature love scene. It starts one paragraph before the final -:-:- and goes pretty much until the end of the chapter, though most of the last stuff is just discussion. If you read up until that aforementioned point, you'll understand who it is between and get an idea for what it will be like, so if you don't like reading anything of that nature, I invite you to skip it.

* * *

 **6\. Prize**

Will concluded the last line of his entry and snapped his journal shut as a satisfied grin spread across his face.

 _I've done it, honey_ , he thought to Lena. _I know my true name. And now, no matter where Tenga has you on that island, I will be able to come right to you. Almost there, Lena. Hang on._

Will's journal entries were much like his thoughts these days. He always wrote them as if they were letters to Lena, just as he usually thought things as if she could hear. For their entire seven-month quest, Will had written regular updates in the handsome leather volume Lena had given him on their sixteenth birthday. When they found her, he wanted her to know that through everything his thoughts had never been far from her. Because they never had been.

Will arose from the small table in the captain's cabin. He often went there to rest when it was Var's turn at the wheel. Unless it was nighttime of course because then at least Zadí would be sleeping in the bed. But both she and Var were out on the deck.

Prior to writing, Will had forced himself to relax, and he had managed to doze off for a time. Right after dinner, Will would take the next shift at the helm. And if their luck held, they would reach Vroengard in less than two days.

Brom entered the cabin without knocking. "Will," he directly began, "I've been mentally examining the inhabitants of Vroengard to help me determine what to expect once we get there. Just now I heard this." Brom stopped speaking aloud but played a message in Will's mind.

 _Will, I'm waiting!_ cried Lena's voice—her beautiful voice, which he hadn't heard in so many months! _You came for me!_

"Ah," Will gasped, clutching the back of the chair as his knees buckled. His eyes filled with tears, and he continued in a whisper, "Lena. Of course I came, honey. I would do anything for you. Anything."

He struggled for a few seconds to regain his composure. Then he looked up at Brom. "Thank you, Brom. I can't even describe what it meant for me to hear that."

Brom nodded, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder. "Almost there, Will. She's still fine."

"Yes, and I'll see her again in a couple days. Only two more days."

-:-:-

That night, Brom tossed again in his hammock on the boys' end of the berth cabin. He had laid down to sleep two hours earlier, but sleep still hadn't found him. And was it really any surprise? That morning they had spotted Vroengard on the horizon. By dusk, they were closer still. They expected to reach the island within two days' time.

Brom had extended his awareness to learn anything he could of what they might expect once they arrived, and just as he had once guessed, Lena and Tenga were not alone on the island. At least a hundred other people lived there.

Brom had been using his mind to determine what to make of these others. As far as he could tell, they were all magicians. And they didn't seem to have many, if any, wards protecting them. Why that would be, Brom couldn't say. But something about them seemed _wrong_. Terribly wrong. How could they have lived any length of time on Vroengard without being affected by the poison in the air? Had Tenga somehow protected them?

Brom's thoughts strayed back to what he had shared with Will earlier that afternoon. He squirmed slightly that he had omitted to share what happened to Lena right after she cried out, but he wouldn't do that to his friend.

Though outwardly calm, Brom sensed how crazed Will had become. He barely slept at all, and Brom knew Will was out at the helm right then, madly making his way to the side of the girl he loved, desperate to reach her before there was a chance her life could end.

And thinking about Will rescuing Lena took Brom's mind right back to the _real_ reason sleep was eluding him. Brin.

Brom knew she was ready—and had been for a couple of months now—to get married. But as irony would have it, Brom had ultimately been the one to insist they wait. After their confrontation with the Shade, Brom had felt that they must not allow themselves to get distracted by marriage. But now he worried they had waited too long. Granted, they were more prepared than before, but what if one of them died when they got to Vroengard? Brin _had_ almost died, and Brom still shuddered to think of it.

On top of that, Brin's unwavering focus on honing her fighting skills had only led to greater mastery during their duels. No matter how he tried, Brom had not yet managed to bring her into submission, and part of him still stubbornly insisted on proving his worthiness according to Urgralish custom.

Brom somehow knew when the hour turned and a new day began at midnight.

 _Happy birthday,_ he bitterly thought. He was twenty now. And might be dead by the end of the week. But no amount of birthday wishing had ever changed his circumstances with Brin, nor would wishing now help him defeat her.

 _Even sweeter than that_ , he sarcastically continued, _once we get to Vroengard, I'll likely face the hardest test of my life. And if I fail, all of my friends, including Brin, will die._

Brom exhaled in hopeless frustration and abruptly rolled out of his hammock. He glanced toward the girls' side of the cabin, distinguishing Brin's breathing from the others. She wasn't asleep. How he wanted to go to her! But he silently left the cabin and climbed to the main deck, wearing nothing but his pants. Though it was still early spring, the air was warm and muggy.

As expected, Will was captaining the ship and staring off into the distance. But was he? No, his eyes were closed. Brom went to the quarter deck and realized Will had fallen asleep standing up.

"Will," he said in a low voice when he reached his friend.

Will startled awake.

"Go down and get some sleep," Brom firmly insisted. "It's my turn soon, but I couldn't sleep anyway. You'll be useless if you're dead on your feet."

Brom was slightly surprised but mostly grateful that Will didn't object. He dragged himself down the stairs to the main deck and through the hatch.

As he took over at the wheel, Brom gazed straight up toward the heavens. The sky directly above was clear and twinkled with a million million stars. But farther ahead a storm threatened, and ominous thunder rumbled into the night.

-:-:-

Though she couldn't hear him, Brin sensed when Brom left, for she too was awake. Moments later, she heard Will's obvious arrival. He must have collapsed into his hammock already asleep.

Brin turned onto her side and curled her arm under her head. She knew why Brom hadn't been able to sleep. Anxiety was eating at him. More even than that, however, was his desire for her. And her longing was now just as strong.

But he still hadn't defeated her in a fight, and Brin knew he would never consider himself worthy of her unless he could. As a peal of thunder rolled through the darkness, Brin felt a sharp pain in the right side of her lower abdomen. It faded into a dull ache. She knew what had just happened and that she needed to act _now_ , so she noiselessly left her hammock, wearing only her supportive undershirt and sleeping pants, which ended just below her knees. She grabbed her sword—and Brom's, as she passed his hammock—and went up to the deck.

Brin closed the hatch behind her, already feeling the weight of Brom's stare upon her. She quickly climbed the stairs to the quarter deck and stopped beside him.

"Happy birthday, Brom."

"You remembered?" Brom asked in a strained voice.

"Yep," Brin lightly replied, though the lightness was forced. "Nice night," she added in a conversational tone. "Pretty stars."

"I noticed. But there's a storm ahead."

"I think I know why," Brin muttered.

Just then a shooting star streaked across the sky. Brom's eyes also followed it.

"Make a wish, Brom."

"You know my wish."

"Is it your birthday wish too?"

"Always," Brom answered. Then in a bitter voice he added, "But wishing on stars has never made it come true. What's your wish?"

"I'll tell you if you can defeat me," Brin tempted, holding out his sword. "Fight me, Brom."

"I don't want to _fight_ you," Brom angrily retorted.

"I _know_ what you want, Brom!" Brin cried, just as heatedly. "And you know _I_ want it too. Stop wishing for it and earn it! Fight for me! And win your prize! I know you'll never feel worthy before then. If you can defeat me, I'll make all of your wishes come true."

Brom steadily stared at her. The stars provided enough light for them to see by. He looped a length of rope around the wheel to hold it in place and stepped away from it to face her.

He accepted his sword and drew it. "Don't go easy on me."

"Never," Brin vowed, drawing her own sword and casting the sheath aside.

And they began to fight. More determinedly than ever before. They first ranged back and forth across the quarter deck, but Brom soon drove her down the stairs. Brin quickly retreated, and he flipped over her head to the main deck behind her.

Brin pivoted on her heel to face him and blocked his slash. "Show off," she accused with a tight grin.

Brom returned her smile while jabbing at her belly. Brin swayed to dodge the blade, and their dance continued on. Over ropes, under sails, around the long boat stored on the main deck.

Brin could see Brom's resolve. He would conquer tonight. And she was glad. But she wasn't going to make it easy for him. He would earn his prize, just as she had suggested. So she continued to evade him, aggressively retaliating until they were both sporting many bruises and aches.

For over an hour they fought, and the ship continued its course toward the storm. A flash of lightning stabbed through the darkness, closely followed by a deep crash of thunder. Brin jumped in surprise, and Brom disarmed her without hesitation, fully utilizing the advantage her brief startle gave him.

His sword clattered to the deck on top of hers, and Brin fell to her knees before she registered that Brom had swept her feet out from under her. But by then he was behind her. He had grabbed one of her hands on his way back and snatched the other as he surrounded her, folding her arms tightly across her chest and pinning them to her torso with one arm. One of his legs clamped over the top of her lap in the same instant, and he leaned his chest against her back to keep her from rearing backward. He slid his free arm under one of her horns and grabbed the other with that hand. Using his forearm to apply firm pressure, he forced her chin all the way down to her chest.

He rested his forehead against the middle of her upper back, gasping furiously to regain his breath before speaking. Brin struggled futilely against his powerful body, but she was completely trapped and unable to move a muscle. Brom was using all of his strength, something she guessed he had never before done, judging by how it felt. He was holding her so tightly that she couldn't fully fill her lungs.

"I can't breathe!" Brin urgently panted, her heart still racing from their long duel.

"Can you escape?" Brom demanded.

"No! I submit! You've defeated me. Now let me breathe! It hurts!"

Brom immediately loosened his hold, and Brin gasped in a greedy breath.

"Tell me your wish," Brom whispered against her neck. He had only _loosened_ his hold, but his arms and one leg were still around her.

"I wished . . ." Brin breathlessly began, ". . . that I would fall asleep in your arms with your kiss on my lips. As your wife. And that I'd wake up in the morning with your arms still around me and your child growing inside of me. I just ovulated, Brom. I can feel it happen every cycle—some girls can—and I'm as fertile as I possibly can be. We need to do this _now_. We need a reason—bigger than ourselves—not to give up when we're facing what's ahead. I think the hardest battle will fall to you, and protecting you will fall to me. I want you, Brom. Ask me."

Brom slid his leg off and knelt back over his ankles. Brin turned, and he pulled her onto his lap.

"It _is_ my job to ask, isn't it?" he softly asked, stroking her face.

Brin nodded. The first drops of warm rain streaked down her face as they fell, some splattering her arms and his shoulders, which were already glistening with sweat.

"But you didn't seem to be in any hurry," Brom continued, his hands now moving along her back and through her hair.

Brin smiled. "I can't believe you remember that. You stole my line. But I've been waiting for you more recently. Again."

Brom also smiled with his face dangerously close to hers. "I remember everything, Brin. But especially anything to do with you. At least in this case there aren't just _so_ many males lined up to ask you."

Still smiling, Brin shook her head. "There weren't then either, if you remember. But I'm in a hurry now. And this is your last chance."

"Really?" Brom wondered with mock anxiety. "Better not miss it. Brin, will you marry me?"

"Yes!" she exclaimed with a joyous laugh. "With all my heart. I love you, Brom."

"And I love you, beautiful Brin. Even though I've been married to you in my mind ever since you confessed that part of you liked me, we'll try to do this the right way."

"Not much by way of a fulfilling marriage, then."

Brom shook his head. "But I think it's about to get a whole lot better." He teasingly cleared his throat, speaking in a voice artificially deeper than his own. "Brom son of Eragon and Brin daughter of Breetuk, we—the moon, stars, and waves of the ocean—gather together to witness your union as man and wife. Do you have anything to say to one another?"

He paused before speaking again in his normal voice. "I do," he volunteered.

Brin giggled, and he kissed her cheek before continuing, "I've loved you for as long as I can remember, Brin. First as a friend, now as a lover. I may not be an Urgal ram, but I'm strong enough to subdue you and I'll do everything in my power to protect and love you for as long as we both shall live. I'll always fight for you, Brin." He next kissed her forehead. "You're worth it."

The rain fell more swiftly, and Brin's tears mingled with the drops on her face. "Thank you, Brom," she whispered. "For so long I've felt unworthy of you, which was my biggest hesitation. Then, strangely enough, we reversed roles. You're amazing in every way. I'm so honored you love me. I'm so grateful you waited for me. I'm so excited to be your wife. You've always made me feel special. I'll fight for you too, Brom. There's no one else I'd rather defend, no one else I'd rather die for, if that's what it comes to." She kissed his nose.

"It won't," Brom promised in a rough voice on the verge of breaking with emotion. He squeezed his eyes shut and took a steadying breath. When he reopened them, he once again spoke in his tone of pretended authority. "By the power vested in me as a retired Dragon Rider—" Brin laughed again, "—I now pronounce you, Brom son of Eragon and Brin daughter of Breetuk, husband and wife. You may kiss your bride."

Brom changed his voice to his own and finished, "Thank you. Don't mind if I do."

Brin smiled radiantly and leaned forward at the same time as Brom, closing the gap between their lips. A bolt of lightning once again lit up the darkness, simultaneously illuminating their faces and rending the sky open in front of a torrent of rain as they kissed for the first time. And the electricity sizzling through the air seized them at the same moment.

Brin gasped into his mouth as Brom growled in desperation. Before the thunder even began, Brin's shirt was two torn pieces on the deck behind her. As the loud rumble filled the stormy night, their pants joined her shirt in short order. And when the last of the boom faded away, they were joined together as husband and wife.

-:-:-

Brom wasn't an Urgal ram, but that night he might as well have been. For hours they blissfully continued, never tiring of one another. The storm raged around them—not windy, but wild just the same—as wild and fierce as the love of the two on the ship. But the charge in the air never rivaled the one they shared as they satisfied their pent-up longing.

When they finally lay still, Brom opened his mouth with his face toward the sky so the rain would fill it. "So thirsty," he croaked after he swallowed. He cleared his throat and added, "But _so_ worth it," then opened his mouth for a refill.

Brin murmured her agreement from on top of him, gathering her sodden hair in one hand and pulling it aside. "I'm glad it rinsed me off after all that sweating."

"It's slowing down," Brom observed. "You'd better get some if you want it."

"I'll just lick it off your skin," Brin teased in a naughty tone as she followed her own suggestion. "Or suck it out of your hair." She ran her fingers through his glistening wet curls. "Besides, I'm not thirsty. I got plenty of water while your mouth was . . . otherwise occupied. It seemed much busier than mine."

His lips turned up against her neck, but he paused his current efforts with his mouth long enough to say, "You made me so hungry for you, Brin. I think I might only be on my fourth course. But this kind of feasting is far more exhausting than the other. Especially with your fantastic starter."

"Fighting isn't your idea of a good appetizer?" Brin innocently wondered. She laughed before adding, "I knew that's what the storm meant. That was an explosion of passion."

"Exactly."

"Who needs an Urgal ram as a mate when there are human-elf half breeds on the loose?" Brin mischievously joked. "I'd ask if I granted all of your wishes, Brom, but I'm now feeling a little concerned I might not have even come close. At least you can rest easy knowing you made all of _my_ dreams come true, including the ones I didn't even know I had. You seemed quite the expert at pleasuring me."

Brom laughed softly, sliding his hands down her wet skin, _all_ the way down as far as he could reach. "You could say I practiced a lot in my dreams, which most definitely came true tonight. I'll put more stock in wishing on shooting stars next time. And I'm glad to hear you enjoyed it as much as I did."

He moved his mouth to her ear, "You might also like to know that your wishes came true, specifically your second. And I'll make sure your first does too. But our child is already conceived in your body. I can feel it with my mind." He kissed the side of her mouth. They had already learned that they could never resist the demands following a kiss on the lips. Not that they had tried.

Brin smiled joyfully and kissed him in the same place, experiencing a shiver of longing at how close their lips were. "I'm so thrilled, Brom. It will be a son, I'm sure of it."

"Most likely. A cousin for Zadí's baby. That will be fun." Brin nodded.

Brom moved his hands up her back, drifting down along her sides as he went. "You're so beautiful, Brin. Your body is perfect. So strong, so lithe, so feminine. Just perfect. It feels like I'll never get enough of you."

"That's what I get for making you wait so long," Brin murmured with mock regret. "A just punishment."

She squirmed as he tickled her and shifted slightly to one side, though not all the way off, so she could run her fingers over his chest. "Nice chest hair."

Brom sniffed as if affronted and replied, "I'm only now twenty. A lot of men don't get thicker chest hair until they're older."

"Is that what it is?" Brin questioned with mock naiveté. "A measure of manliness? Poor Nefin."

Brom laughed. "That's a good point though. I'm only part human. Would you be disappointed if this is all the hairier I ever got?"

"Hmmm," Brin mused as if really contemplating it. "Yep, I guess so." Then she snickered. "Of course not, Brom. You're beautiful. Wait, that didn't sound right. Handsome. And very manly. Very, very masculine indeed. I love how soft it is, though my hide is tough enough for far stiffer."

"Hide?" Brom skeptically repeated. "Please, Brin. Don't refer to yourself like you're an animal."

"I _do_ have yellow eyes, sharp teeth, and gray skin. And black claws," she added, almost as an afterthought, while once again trailing her fingernails along his chest. "Beast-like enough in some people's minds."

"I want to feel those sharp teeth somewhere," Brom requested. "Nicely this time." She leaned forward and obligingly fulfilled his request on his ear as he continued, "When you bit me in Ellesméra, you told me you might let me bite you sometime. Did I return the favor to your liking?"

"Mm-hmm," Brin breathed. "It was marvelous, Brom. Everything you did, everything you said. It felt sublime. I'm so glad we had this night together. Now no matter what happens next, I won't have any regrets." She yawned and rested her forehead against his temple. "I'm finally feeling tired. What time do you think it is?"

"Maybe four or five. It was about midnight when I came out here. We fought for over an hour—"

"And wrestled for at least three more," she interjected with an impish laugh. "Will or Var will be back out before long. The sky is starting to lighten in the east."

"There's a blanket in the long boat," Brom said, using magic to summon and dry it. Then he spread it out over them. "So my kiss on your lips, huh? It will be difficult to fall asleep after that."

Brin breathed a drowsy laugh. "Your kiss on my face, anywhere you want, works just as well."

So Brom kissed everywhere on her face except her lips then pulled it down to his throat. "Let's sleep while we can," he muttered. "Big day tomorrow. I love you, beautiful Brin."

"Love you too, handsome," she managed before drifting to sleep in his arms.

-:-:-:-

* * *

 **A/N:** Sorry if there were any typos. I've read through it a couple times and made minor revisions, but it's so late now and I'm so tired that I very well could have missed something. I just really wanted to get another chapter up for y'all, and the baby has kindly let me focus on this for a few hours. He's 2.5 months old now and laughed for the first time tonight. It was adorable!

Thanks for reading! And thank you to everyone who left a review after the last chapter. I'd love to hear your thoughts once again. Much love, ~Autumn :)


	106. Part III 7 Nightmares Awaken

**7\. Nightmares Awaken**

Another celebration happened on Brom's twentieth birthday, though it was of a much different nature and far from the ship sailing toward Vroengard.

Eragon and Arya could have had no way of knowing that the species Eragon and Saphira thought they doomed to extinction was actually reborn on the day of their first son's birth with the hatching of two pitted blue-black eggs.

And now, twenty years later, the two eldest Ra'zac awaited their transformation in the dark tower at Helgrind, while the younger pair eagerly looked on. Unlike during the hatching of these latter two, where Tenga, the elder Ra'zac, and a half dozen priests of Tosk comprised the zealous audience, only Ra'zac were present for this night's show.

The full moon intermittently peered out from behind scuttling black storm clouds, casting eerie shadows into the cavernous opening atop the highest monolith. A bolt of lightning stabbed through the night, splintering the sky into a dozen uneven fragments. A similar pattern appeared on the carapaces of the transforming beasts, jagged fissures split open under the pressure of unfurling wings.

The accompanying boom of thunder muffled the screeching clamor of this nightmarish metamorphosis. And so the process slowly continued until the entire shiny black exoskeleton fell away to reveal a slimy gray hide and powerful bat-like wings.

The creatures writhed and stretched, snaking long necks from side to side as they tested their new form. Rimless black eyes glistened in the darkness as a blaze of electricity sizzled across the sky.

Snapping their thick beaks, which would rapidly gain size in the coming weeks until they surpassed the length of a grown man, the Lethrblaka emitted triumphant shrieks. Their younger siblings joined in the cacophonous symphony, melding with the sinister sounds of the storm.

The four monsters shared one thought: _We must find the Shade. But before even that, time to hunt._

-:-:-:-


	107. Part III 8 Planning

**8\. Planning**

The next morning Brom awoke to his friends standing around them in a circle, most of them smiling and whispering. Though he and Brin were right out on the main deck, their exhaustion had compelled them to sleep right through sunrise.

As Brin groggily returned to awareness, she began to push herself upright. Brom held her in place, and a confused look crossed her face.

"What's going on?" she slurred in a voice thick with sleep.

"I'd let you up," Brom replied, "but you're naked. We both are. Do you really want the others to see us like that?"

Brin's expression of sleepy confusion quickly cleared, and she then gazed at him with focused eyes. "Naked?" she repeated, bending one knee so her leg slid along his. Then she smiled. "Yes we are. So last night wasn't a dream?"

"No," Brom refuted. "But I seem to recall that we made one another's dreams come true."

Brin's smile widened as Var loudly snickered. Nefin and Ajh joined him. Then she looked up. Keeta and Zadí were both smiling in knowing understanding, though Hanna looked slightly mortified.

"Nice night, then?" Var casually asked. "And we just thought it was the storm out here. Zadí and I didn't see you on the other side of the long boat as we made our way below deck."

Brom chuckled and tucked one hand behind his head. "Brin and I thought it would be a good idea to elope. We made it as far as we could without nabbing the long boat." Their friends laughed again.

"Congratulations!" Zadí cried. "Good timing, too."

"Thank you, little sister," Brom accepted. "So I would imagine you have already eaten breakfast."

"Yep," Ajh confirmed. "And we came up to discover what had become of you other two. I can understand why you didn't make an appearance."

"Yes," Brom regretfully agreed. "We'll have to have a real honeymoon some other time. Perhaps my new wife and I should clothe ourselves and quickly eat so we can come up with a plan for what to do when we reach Vroengard."

"So how are we going to do this?" Brin questioned. "Our clothes are torn."

"Hanna would mend them," Nefin began with a chortle, "but she's too embarrassed thinking about how they got that way and why." He laughed more loudly when his younger sister blushed crimson.

"I'll go grab some pants for Brom," Nefin continued. "Then maybe Brin can wrap up in the blanket to head down."

Brin shrugged her agreement and snuggled back into Brom's chest, apparently content to wait until Nefin returned, which happened but a moment later.

"I wish you weren't so fast," Brin complained, and Brom couldn't help but agree as she finished, "I like my current location."

"Everyone who doesn't want to see me naked turn around for a second," Brom instructed, quickly memorizing the way Brin felt pressed against him. He had no idea when they would enjoy a repeat of their first night together.

Hanna not only turned, but she fled down to the berth cabin. Keeta and Zadí respectfully faced away. Then Brin shifted off of Brom so he could stand, her eyes admiring as he quickly pulled on the pants Nefin gave him.

Holding the blanket around herself, Brin also arose and smiled at him. "See you in a minute, handsome."

Brom returned the smile and nodded, keeping his eyes on her back until she disappeared down the ladder.

-:-:-

Keeta and Zadí followed Brin to the berth cabin.

"Brin!" Keeta exclaimed. "Did you plan for that to happen last night?"

Brin felt a silly grin of infatuation split her face. "No, Keeta. But it seemed like it was supposed to. I could tell Brom wasn't asleep. I couldn't sleep either. It seemed like there was a palpable tension in the air with the storm. And right when I heard the first rumble of thunder, I ovulated."

"Wait!" Zadí interjected. "So are you pregnant? Surely Brom would have noticed with his mind!"

"Yep," Brin verified. "I am, and he did. So you'll most likely have a nephew within a few months of your baby coming."

Zadí squealed her delight at the thought and threw her arms around Brin in an exuberant hug. "How exciting!"

"Congratulations!" Keeta seconded before asking, "So how was it?"

Brin's grin had never left. "Amazing. But almost painful at first. We fought for over an hour and Brom finally subdued me, so the initial tension had gotten so much worse by the time we were married. Brom insisted on performing a little ceremony, if you can call it that. Needless to say, he was pretty aroused. I was completely fertile, and I still had to focus on relaxing."

"That's how it was for me too," Zadí agreed. "And Var waited until I was fully ready and let me be totally in control. My whole body started trembling. It's such an incredible feeling."

Brin nodded. "And he thought only of me, of course. He has worried before that I would be disappointed he's not like an Urgal ram, but that didn't seem to be a problem." She snickered as she recalled the previous night.

Zadí laughed. "I'm so happy for you two. He has wanted this for so long, and I know you have too for the past couple of months. I'm glad you could experience it before whatever happens next."

Zadí glanced down as Keeta cleared her throat. Brin also looked when Keeta tilted her head toward Hanna's hammock.

"Oh, Hanna!" Zadí regretfully cried. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass you!"

"Sorry, Hanna," Brin repeated.

"It's nothing," Hanna dismissed. "I'm more used to open discussion of this than most elves, but I still can't seem to fully overcome my awkwardness. But it's insightful, no matter how I otherwise feel. Hopefully I'll eventually need this knowledge."

Zadí giggled. "No doubt. Ajh is probably thinking the same thing up there as Brom brags about his conquest." Hanna timidly smiled as another blush blossomed on her cheeks.

"Do you really think he's bragging?" Brin wondered.

"Pff! Of course!" Zadí insisted. "If he finally bested you, he's definitely bragging. And I'm sure he and Var are giving their eager audience an equally insightful lesson."

The girls all laughed. Brin was finished dressing and brushing her hair, so she headed back toward the ladder, stopping first to use the privy before returning to the main deck where the others awaited.

-:-:-

After eating and enjoying more good-natured bantering with his friends—all save Will, at least, who remained at the helm throughout—Brom made himself get serious.

"So we're almost to Vroengard," he started. "And we need to have a plan. We were fortunate when we faced the Shade that our lack of preparation didn't backfire. I'm not sure we should rush to face Tenga in the same way. There are over a hundred other people living on that island, and from what I can tell with my mind, they're all magicians. That could be very problematic."

The others shifted uneasily, glancing around at one another.

Brom continued, "I have also learned that they don't seem to have many wards protecting them. Anyone have any guesses as to why?"

Hanna suggested, "Perhaps, like Trianna's eel, they are somehow immune to pain and therefore don't feel a need to protect themselves from threats that would normally cause injury."

"I was thinking the same thing," Brom agreed. "In order to have survived on Vroengard for any length of time, they are somehow protected from the poison that permeates the whole island. But if we have to fight them and they can't feel pain . . ."

"Then every blow must be a death blow," Nefin gravely finished. "We would be so outnumbered that we wouldn't be able to afford anything less."

Brom solemnly bowed his head. "If these magicians stand with Tenga against us, we will be required to take some lives. Up until now, we haven't killed like that. Trianna's eel was the only living creature we have slaughtered. Her other assistants were already dead. I know this thought is as repulsive to all of you as it is to me."

"I hate to be the one to suggest this," Var said, "but someone needs to. Brom, couldn't you, Hanna, and Nefin reach out with your minds once we're closer and quickly end their lives? Wouldn't that somehow be more humane?"

Brom's face tightened angrily. "I could do that, but I won't. In my mind, there's a distinction. That seems like coldblooded murder. They would have no warning, no chance to defend themselves. I'm not a god to decide when a person's life begins and ends. But if we face them and they attack, we'll be fighting to defend ourselves. And we're more evenly matched than you think. Most of you former Dragon Riders might no longer have magical abilities, but I can guarantee you're all better fighters. In that regard, these magicians don't stand a chance, not even if they're armed. I just want it to be a level playing field. If Hanna and Nefin can maintain some wards to guard you all against magical threats, then it will be a big group of people who can't feel pain fighting against a small group of incredibly skilled warriors. No magic to throw things out of balance."

"So maybe we should decide who will protect whom with wards," Hanna recommended. "I'll protect myself, Ajh, Will, and Var. I already know . . ." She awkwardly trailed off.

"That I want to protect Keeta," Nefin finished. "You're right, sweetie," he reassured Hanna, playfully winking at Keeta. "And I'll also protect myself."

"I offered to do more because I know Nefin will be a big part of the fighting," Hanna explained.

"Yes," Brom said, "he will. Nefin, we'll need you to take out as many as you can with your bow. I know you can get every arrow right through an eye."

Nefin grimly dipped his head.

"I will protect Brin from magical attack," Brom went on, "but I'm not sure how much energy we can afford to put into physical wards. Those who will be fighting all have excellent armor and shields from Rhunön. Do we feel this is sufficient, on top of our fighting abilities, to keep us from grievous physical injury?"

"It should be," Ajh said. "I know you'll be completely focused on engaging Tenga, and Brin will act as your physical ward, in a sense. But if we ask Hanna and Nefin to maintain those types of wards as well, they might be overwhelmed and begin to falter in sustaining the magical defenses. Then the rest of us just fighting—me, Var, Will, Keeta—would be susceptible to any spells the magicians cast."

"That's a good point," Brom granted. "So we've determined how to defend ourselves from magical attack and we are agreed that we will almost certainly be expected to end people's lives if we encounter a conflict. But I still don't know what to expect as far as right when we arrive. I don't know where these people will be right then. Tenga might be waiting for us on the beach. We might have to trek through the mountains. We just need to be as rested and alert as possible. When the moment comes that I'm sure Tenga means to fight, I will immediately make myself invisible. I'm already hiding my mental presence from detection, and I'm hoping he will be surprised and confused if and when he realizes my intentions. And those will be to mentally thwart any magical attacks he directs toward you, as well as to disarm all of the countless wards he no doubt has protecting himself so he can be killed by any regular weapon."

"My first priority," Will called from the wheel, "is to find Lena and make sure she's safe. If she happens not to be right with Tenga, we'll have to meet up later."

"Of course," Brom said.

"And I'll stay as far away from the fighting as possible," Zadí stated. "Maybe the ship will need some looking after."

Var smiled. "Good idea, sweetie. But I don't think you should stay alone with the ship if all of us head inland. I want you to be close enough that I can keep an eye on you."

"Because I'm bound to get into so much trouble," Zadí teased, rubbing her adorable little belly. "I'll stay close but out of harm's way."

"Perfect," Var approved, pulling her against him with an arm around her shoulders.

"If we aren't using physical wards, I'll also stay out of harm's way," Hanna echoed. "I can perform my task without being immediately present, and then no one will have to worry about defending me from stray arrows or something."

"A mahvelous plan, sugar," Ajh drawled.

Hanna shared a shy smile.

"Anything else?" Brom then asked, feeling like they had done a fairly decent job of planning when there were still so many unknown factors.

"Yes," Nefin worriedly said, gazing at the distant horizon. "What's that?"

They all turned to look and saw foreboding black clouds roiling across the sky toward the ship with unnatural speed and an almost tangible malice.

"That is our luck running out," Will dryly commented. "Let's get the sails down before that hits or we'll capsize for sure."

And everyone hurried to fulfill his order before the terrible tempest struck.

-:-:-:-


	108. Part III 9 Tenga's Tempest

**9\. Tenga's Tempest**

After Tenga left Lena bound in the Vault of Souls, he took the elven twin sisters and likewise fettered them to one of Aras Thelduin's highest peaks. There he intended to leave them until they truly did starve to death. He was taking no chances this time.

 _You really are a softy_ , he indulgently reprimanded himself. _If you could just find the nerve to actually end someone's life, you might have avoided all of these problems. But no matter. It is still thrilling to imagine Lena and these elves slowly wasting away. Miserable creatures! How it irks me that they tricked and lied to me all these months!_

Then he went back to his quarters. Though he had replenished his vitality using Bid'Daum's energy, he was filthy and hungry. So he bathed himself, ate—feeling a twinge of regret that he would no longer enjoy Lena's fine meals—and indulged in a long slumber. No need to hurry. He wanted the nine children to sail as close to Vroengard as they could before they experienced the magnitude of his foul temper. Then he could dash their hopes when they were highest.

When he awakened, Tenga wrote a long record of his two-month exile in the barren wilderness between Ilirea and Helgrind. Documenting his life experiences was a centuries-old habit and Tenga saw no reason to stop now, though the events he chronicled highlighted one of his most monumental failures. Having a written account would help him avoid similar mistakes in the future. He would never again travel using his accelerated, high energy method without ensuring he had sufficient reserves to draw from.

 _And that should never again be a problem_ , he thought. _From now on I will take Bid'Daum with me in his magically reduced form. I can always just use his power to defend him against any magician who might want to steal him._

After eating a leisurely breakfast, Tenga then flew to the same peak where he had taken Lena the day before. The ship was indeed closer, and the old magician rubbed his hands together in anticipation of what he was about to do.

Releasing a delighted chuckle, Tenga tapped into Bid'Daum's limitless strength and began muttering a complex incantation. After nearly twenty minutes of weaving the spell, he released the accumulation of black thunderheads in the direction of the ship, continuing to intensify the rain, lightning, and wind. But mostly the wind. He would drive the ship back for as long as possible then smash it apart. For Tenga really didn't want to deal with lifeless, bloated corpses washing ashore as he had joked to Lena. He hoped the nine children's bodies would simply get eaten by sharks or Nïdhwalar far out at sea.

-:-:-

The gale struck the ship only moments after the youth managed to lower and tie down the sails. But such measures—aside from ensuring that they did not immediately capsize—did little to help them. The vessel violently reeled and pitched as the storm drove it back on what was clearly a magical current.

 _This is Tenga's doing,_ Brom mentally communicated, knowing his friends would never hear over the shrieking wind. And most of the girls were in the berth cabin anyway. _I don't know what to do. He is pushing us away from Vroengard at an incredible speed. There's no way I can counter that without delving into the stores we've made. But if I don't, we might never reach our destination so it wouldn't even matter._

 _He must be furious for some reason,_ Will responded. _Because he wouldn't be doing this if he had just left with Lena. So she really must have found a way to stay there and now he is retaliating. He escalates quickly when he loses his temper and takes revenge, doesn't he? But now we're several days away again, and that's if we could stop right now and resume sailing forward._

 _Everyone get down below before someone blows away,_ Var commanded. _We need to do something soon because the ship will break apart regardless of whether the sails are down. This wind is magically enhanced to be unbelievably deadly. I've never read or heard of a squall this powerful._

The boys and Brin swiftly descended the ladder into the berth cabin. Zadí went to Var, and he absently put his arm around her.

"So what do you suggest, captain?" Will asked Var.

 _I have a suggestion_ , said an ancient and unfamiliar mental voice.

Brom was instantly on the defensive. _Who are you!_ he demanded.

 _I am Bid'Daum_ , came the answer. _We must speak quickly before you are too far for this to work. Tenga is borrowing my strength to create this tempest. I cannot shut myself off from him until you actually make it here and confront him, otherwise he will know something is wrong. While I am in this open state, you also can borrow my vitality. Do so immediately, elfling. Get your friends and some supplies and board the long boat as rapidly as you can._

Brom urgently looked around at his friends, spurring them into the recommended action by setting the example.

The dragon continued without pause, _Protect yourselves from the storm's affects using my power. Then row away until you are clear of it. Tenga has designed it to surround only your ship. While you are rowing, hide your mental presence from the old magician. He intends to break the craft apart in only a handful more minutes. You must not still be on it. But he will think you perished with your vessel and rest on his laurels, for his arrogance is his greatest weakness. Continue guarding your group and rowing until you reach the western shore. Tenga is standing above the southern border of the island, but if he thinks you are dead, he is not likely to go to the trouble of keeping watch for you. Yet another shortcoming he has frequently exhibited in the recent past. Landing on the western beach will put you closest to the Vault of Souls, which is where Lena is right now. Hurry younglings, or this opportunity will expire and Lena will die._

As the dragon concluded, Brom cried, "Pack! Everyone pack! Faster! We only have a few minutes!"

The flurry of activity that had already commenced only increased as the friends redoubled their efforts. Several disappeared to the cargo hold to make similar preparations with food supplies. Miraculously, they were ready to go less than three minutes later.

Brom cast the spell that would protect them from the ferocity of the storm above before rushing up the ladder, closely followed by his companions.

The boys had the long boat over the side a minute later, and Brom sped all of their activities with magic. Allowing Bid'Daum's strength to fill him was absolutely exhilarating. Brom couldn't believe how powerful he felt—like he could conquer the world! The dragon's vitality made every other magical source Brom was familiar with pale in comparison. The belt of Beloth the Wise seemed like a candle next to the sun when contrasted with the Eldunarí's immense life force.

Before Brom even thought it possible, the nine were in the long boat, feverishly rowing away from the careening ship over waters made calm at Brom's word. But everyone sharply looked back as an impossibly enormous jagged bolt of lightning tore open the sky to blast the ship into smithereens.

Brom easily protected his friends from the flying shards as they exploded over the water in a thousand directions.

 _There goes our ride home_ , Will regretfully thought through the still-open mental link Brom was maintaining.

 _It took us years to build that,_ Var lamented in the same tone.

 _But at least we weren't on it just then_ , Brom pointed out, unconcerned by what seemed such a trivial matter when he was filled with such limitless power. While borrowing from Bid'Daum, Brom felt certain he could reconstruct the ship in a day if he wanted.

 _Let's keep going,_ Ajh prompted. _We're almost to Lena._

Then Bid'Daum's mental voice once again filled their minds, _Tenga intends to cease his efforts at any moment. He believes his plan was a success. Once he stops using me, I will also withdraw my assistance so he doesn't feel me helping you. At that point you will be on your own to reach Vroengard, but I have no doubt you will. You have already overcome more than I would have believed possible._

The dragon unemotionally distanced himself, and Brom was struck by how indifferent he still seemed, though he had just helped them all survive certain death. Bid'Daum did not appear at all concerned with their well-being, as if he was acting out of a sense of detached self-interest. But in spite of this realization, Brom couldn't quell the sharp pang of disappointment when the Eldunarí did as he had warned by blocking access to his vitality.

The squall died down nearly as suddenly as it appeared, leaving the day as clear as it had started. Now the nine friends were again over a week away from accomplishing their goal, but they were grateful to be alive after their brush with death.

-:-:-

Lena's cries of agony had long since ceased. What good did they do? None. Crying about how much pain she was in did nothing to diminish the torment and really only exaggerated it, if she was honest with herself.

The searing burn in her legs was all she could think about. She had learned that if she carefully braced her weight against the upper arm restraints, she could extend one leg out in front of her at a time. But then only one leg supported her weight while she tried to rest the other, and she could scarce bear this torture, as exhausted as they already were.

Her sense of time was completely warped, so she didn't know how long she had been chained to the wall when the next discomfort demanded her attention. It was amazing, really, that anything beyond her suffering legs registered in her mind, but she nevertheless began to experience a burning thirst. Why was all the pain she felt down here in this thrice-blasted furnace some form of burning?

Lena had begun to feel like she would do anything for a drink of water when Swiftpaw emerged from her hiding place dragging a familiar object.

From the corner of her eye—for Lena could not fully turn her head to observe the werecat's approach—Lena eventually identified one of the socks she had left Swiftpaw to fill with water for Iduna and Nёya.

"Swiftpaw!" Lena gratefully exclaimed. "I had all but forgotten about you!"

 _That seems to happen rather often_ , the werecat ironically replied. _But I brought you some water._

"Oh, thank you, Swiftpaw! Knowing I'm not alone somehow makes this easier. But my legs hurt so badly I think I might die, and I'm not being melodramatic!"

Swiftpaw carefully propped the magically reinforced stocking against the wall by Lena and transformed into her human girl self. Then she lifted the makeshift canteen to Lena's mouth and tilted it up.

Lena greedily drank all of the water, exhaling in relief when she finished. "Thank you," she repeated. "Maybe I'll survive a few days if I have enough water. But I'm already hungry and I doubt we'll have many options for food."

"Yes," Swiftpaw agreed, still in her human form. "I hope your friends do make it here quickly, Lena, otherwise I think starvation truly will be how I meet my end. I was getting so hopeful that I might actually see daylight again before I died."

"Oh, Swiftpaw," Lena consoled, finding that focusing on someone else's woes temporarily took her mind off her own. "You have been trapped down here for so many months! Even when you were able to accompany the Caretakers outside, it was always at night, wasn't it?"

The girl sadly nodded. "But we must not give up hope yet, Lena. Your friends have already overcome impossible odds to get so close."

Lena also tried to nod and gagged. "I hate that old man!" she fumed. "When they get here, I'm going to insist on being the one to kill him."

"Can we do it as a team?" Swiftpaw hopefully requested. "I would love nothing more than to scratch Tenga's eyes out."

Lena smiled in grim anticipation. "Sounds like a plan."

-:-:-:-


	109. Part III 10 Found

**10\. Found**

After a week of endless rowing, in which Will almost always took part despite his exhaustion, the nine youth made it to Vroengard. As they neared the western shore, Will was the first to spring out of the boat, grateful for the cool of the water and the immediate relief as his torso stopped working and his legs took over for a time. He pulled while the others continued to row until they could drag the small craft onto the beach.

Will grabbed his pack and some food from their depleted stores. "I'm going to get Lena," he announced. "I'll bring her here, and then we can plan our next move." Most of his friends hadn't even disembarked, but Will turned to jog into the forest without awaiting permission.

He never stopped running as he navigated the dense undergrowth of the forest, always climbing higher and higher up the mountain. Soon Will reached a canyon that led between two of the peaks and into the valley beyond.

Will sprinted onward, knowing where he needed to go from stories and his studies. And soon enough, the imposing stone monolith itself guided him in a direct course to his destination.

He skidded to a stop in front of the Rock of Kuthian, panting his true name and waiting with an impatience that threatened to kill him.

"Hurry!" he muttered under his breath. Nearly eight months after Lena had been torn from his side, Will was only minutes away from finding her. "I'm coming, honey."

Will refused to entertain any possibility other than the one that ended with him finding Lena alive in the Vault of Souls a mile below his current location. "You're still alive," he willed. "Still alive."

Will shoved the archway open as soon as it appeared, resuming his desperate sprint down the dark tunnel.

-:-:-

Swiftpaw suddenly sprang up, her hackles rising in fear. _Someone's coming!_ she cried to Lena. _Swiftly!_

"Let him come," Lena listlessly muttered, her head painfully lolling against the stone restraint. They hadn't eaten in a week, and Lena knew they wouldn't make it much longer. "Maybe he has come to gloat a bit more."

 _I do not think it is Tenga! This person is moving far faster than that old man ever has._

Lena forced herself to raise her head. _It can't be,_ she defensively thought, refusing to voice her dearest hope in an effort to protect herself from certain disappointment. _But please let it be. Please let it be Will._

-:-:-

As Will exploded into the vast underground chamber, his sword drawn and eyes darting about, he immediately spotted the skeletal frame shackled to the wall.

"Lena!" he shouted, racing over to her. "Lena, please be alive, honey!"

The emaciated person turned her face. "Will?" Lena rasped in a faint voice, her beautiful blue eyes filling with tears as she forced herself to focus on his face. "Will. You found me."

"Oh, Lena," Will breathed, immediately working to sever her restraints. "Look at you, honey! Thank you, god, for keeping her alive."

His Rider's blade effortlessly sliced through the thick stone, though Will took care not to cut Lena's skin. He first removed the binding around her neck, stepping closer when her head weakly sagged forward into his chest. He then freed her right arm and transferred his sword to his right hand so he could slip his left arm around her waist as she slumped down. After removing the last two manacles, Lena fully collapsed into his arms.

Will's sword clattered to the ground as he dropped down beside it, enfolding Lena in his arms, pressing her gaunt frame into his body, burying his face in her neck.

"Thank you, god," he repeated as his tears soaked her hair. "Thank you for helping me find her."

Lena's thin shoulders shook as she wept, and she wrapped her arms around Will's back to pull herself more tightly against him. "I knew you would find me, love. Thank you for not giving up. Thinking of you is all that kept me alive this week. And it's what kept me going, fighting, all these months."

She lifted her head, raising both of her hands to Will's face and feeling his every feature.

"I'm real," he reassured, guessing her intent. He also raised one hand to stroke her cheek. "I would never give up, honey. Never. Not even death would keep me from saving you. You know I would die for you."

"I know," Lena whispered.

He bent down to gently kiss her. "Do you want your ring back?"

Lena bit her lip to still the tremors and nodded, her eyes wide and teary. So Will withdrew the chain from under his shirt and unfastened it. He slid the ring on her finger, but she was so skeletal that the band no longer fit. Will refastened the necklace around her neck, his face twisting in concern as he observed the angry red welts from her stone fetter.

"I brought some food, honey. Will you eat? Then we can return to the others and Hanna can attend to these wounds."

"Is everyone here?" Lena asked, accepting the food Will handed her.

"Everyone. All nine of us. We've been through a lot, but so have you. Tenga doesn't know we're here and that advantage might not last long, so it might be better to catch up later."

Lena nodded her agreement with her mouth full. "Will you carry me, love? I'm not sure I can walk out of here."

"I'll never let you go again, Lena, if that's what you want," Will vowed. "I'm so relieved you're alive. I can't even tell you how worried I was all these months. I was so afraid I would show up one minute too late."

"I almost didn't make it. This last week . . . my legs . . . hurt so much. And then when I would fall asleep, I would start to suffocate because my weight would pull against the restraint. Swiftpaw kept me alive. She stood in front of me so I could awkwardly relax and sleep for short stretches. And she brought me water."

"Swiftpaw?" Will repeated in confusion, offering Lena his water skin.

"The werecat. Here she is."

Will looked up as a small girl just as sickly thin as Lena approached.

"She hid when she heard you coming," Lena explained. "Staying out of sight has kept her alive all these months. Tenga kidnapped her too so he could spy on my mother through the werecats who visited the palace. When I first got here, she was starving. We came up with a plan to keep the Caretakers—of the Dragon Rider pact—alive. Tenga had forgotten about Swiftpaw and never bothered to check for her with his mind. Oh Will, there's so much to tell you, but I know we haven't the time. But she's coming with us. We want to be the ones to kill Tenga."

"Yes," Will firmly agreed. "You deserve that much. I'll take you to the others, and we'll decide how to go about doing that. Your input will be invaluable. Swiftpaw, thank you for keeping Lena alive. I will always be grateful."

"She did just as much to keep me alive," Swiftpaw insisted.

"I'll carry you too," Will offered. "Stronger than ever after a week of rowing."

Swiftpaw resumed her werecat form and lightly sprang into Lena's lap after Will gently cradled her in his arms. Then he arose and walked out of the Vault of Souls toward the surface.

"Keep eating if you can," he instructed Lena. "You look like a skeleton, honey. I'm so sorry you had to go through all that. I wished I could stop your suffering, be with you to protect you. Did Tenga ever . . . you know . . . steal your virtue?"

Lena shook her head, gulping down her current bite. "He tried. The first time, he discovered my ring and took it away. I had hidden it around my waist. Every time after that, Bid'Daum somehow distracted him."

"I remember that night," Will said. "Var and Zadí had just gotten married. My ring did the strangest thing. I can't believe it has been almost six months since then. If only we had come straight here! Brom guessed Tenga might have you on Vroengard, but without my ring to guide us we were worried we'd get hopelessly lost. We wasted so much time going to Ilirea and back."

"Ilirea? You've been through a lot too, Will. I'm so relieved you all made it alive. Tenga was furious when he bound me down here. I knew he had snapped, just like when he destroyed the Dragon Rider pact, and I was so worried he really would kill you all. It was so defeating after I had just seen the ship on the horizon."

"He nearly did kill us," Will shared. "Bid'Daum also helped us. Well, he helped Brom, who performed some amazing magic while using the dragon's strength. But Brom shared what you thought at that moment you saw the ship. I can't even describe what it was like for me to hear your voice in my mind, Lena." He lowered his face to kiss her forehead.

Lena started crying again, and she pressed her face into his shoulder after cinching her arms around his neck. "I can't believe you're actually here, Will. I love you so much."

Will swallowed the lump in his throat, but didn't bother trying to fight the tears. "I love you too, Lena. Now let's get back to the others."

-:-:-:-


	110. Part III 11 Man and Wife

**A/N:** This chapter contains a very brief bit of mature love. It's the purest scene I've ever written, but I wanted to warn you nonetheless.

* * *

 **11\. Man and Wife**

Before Will had even made it through the twisted, unnatural apple orchard, Brom cried in Lena's mind, _Lena! You're alive! Thank goodness! Tell Will to stay up there. We others are on our way to meet you. But Will went so fast that we'll be a few more minutes._

Lena conveyed this message to Will, who readily obliged by exiting the orchard—on Lena's request—and sitting with his back against a tree. He waited patiently while she and Swiftpaw ate, apparently content to simply stare at her face.

Soon enough, their other eight friends appeared over the slope. Lena knew Var, Brom, Nefin, Hanna, and Brin could have arrived just as quickly as Will, but she guessed they had slowed their pace for Keeta's sake. And Zadí's!

"Is Zadí pregnant?" Lena murmured to Will.

"Yes. Over halfway through now. She and Var are so excited. They got married on her birthday. Brom and Brin did too, on _his_ birthday."

"Let's not wait until our birthday," Lena implored. "I want to marry you right away."

"My thoughts exactly."

A huge smile, accompanied by more tears, spread across Lena's face as Ajh distanced himself from the group and jogged forward.

"Lena!" he cried as Will stood up with her. "Lena! I'm so glad to see you!"

Lena leaned away from Will enough to extend her arms as Ajh reached them and gave her an enthusiastic embrace.

"Ajh!" she laughed. "I'm thrilled to see you too! I can't even begin to say how overjoyed and relieved! Thank you for coming."

"Anything for you," Ajh replied, similar to Will. "I'm just grateful we made it."

Hanna next approached, her happy smile clouding with concern as she observed Lena's condition. "Oh, Lena," she despaired, "you're skin and bones! And look at these raw chafe marks. Let me heal them!"

"Go right ahead," Lena invited. "And sorry about the stench, everyone. I know it must be really awful, especially for you Hanna. I had no other choice but to relieve myself where I was bound in the Vault of Souls." She apologetically glanced up at Will.

"I didn't even notice, honey," he promised. "You think I would care about something like that at such a time?"

"I'll help you bathe and change into some clean clothes once I'm done," Hanna offered.

"Thank you, Hanna," Lena declined, "but I want it to be Will. We'll be the third couple to form in our group. And we want to get married right now. Did Brom perform the other ceremonies?"

The rest of the party had hung back slightly, but they now came forward with bright smiles that warmed Lena's heart.

"Such as they were," Brom answered. "They were really just formalities and especially would be in your case. No one can ever question yours and Will's devotion."

"True," Lena agreed. "But it would still be fun. Hanna, my legs are in sorry shape. I don't think I can support my weight right now."

"Did Tenga beat you?" Hanna worriedly asked as she continued her efforts, moving to Lena's legs.

"She was shackled to the wall in such a way that her legs were partially bent," Will informed. "And you were that way for how long? A week, right?"

Lena nodded. "But for the restraint around my neck, I might have been able to stand up straight or rest against the fetters surrounding my arms. As it was, when I tried either, I would quickly start to strangle myself. Tenga was enraged when he left me to die. He seems to delight in contemplating other people's suffering, though he has never had the nerve to simply kill someone off."

"He almost did with us," Will reminded. "And he'll surely feel the urge again when he realizes his initial attempt failed. But let's not think about that yet. Brom?"

"Let these others see Lena first," Brom suggested. "We have all missed her and been worried sick, just not quite as intensely as you."

"Of course!" Lena consented, and she greeted each of her remaining friends with tight hugs and joyful words. During this time, Lena asked whether they were protected from the poison on Vroengard. Brom told her that he had performed the spell that would prevent the sickness from affecting any of them right when they landed on the beach and Will had run off.

When the reunions were over, Brom then walked to stand in front of the reunited couple. Will had never set her down, though Swiftpaw had vacated her warm perch on Lena's lap and now sat next to Will's feet, her tail twitching. Lena had introduced the werecat to the others, highly praising her feline friend for preserving her life.

Brom silently stared at the two being joined as man and wife. "I don't even know what to say," he finally admitted. "Words seem inadequate after all you've been through to return to each other."

"I have an idea," Will proposed. "We'll just share our true names with each other. Mine is almost entirely about Lena. And exchanging true names is considered the highest expression of trust and intimacy in some circles. Seems fitting."

"Perfect," Lena approved. So with a broad smile, Will lowered his face until his lips brushed her ear. Then he whispered his true name and Lena felt a shiver course through her body at the same time as Will's. As Will had revealed, his true name was almost completely dedicated to her—his love for her, how much he valued their friendship, how he recognized all of her strengths, and how her well-being was so important to him that he would willingly offer his life for her.

More tears overflowed as Lena returned Will's smile. "Thank you, love. I'm honored."

Will shrugged. "It's true, honey. Isn't that why they call it a true name?"

Lena laughed softly. "Now my turn." She placed one hand on his cheek and the other at the back of his head. Resting her forehead against his horn, Lena breathed her true name—her _true_ true name, the one that served as key to her secret gazebo—into Will's ear.

While her relationship with Will had been a slightly higher priority than her family ties before Lena's captivity on Vroengard, that bond was now the most central and defining aspect of her personality. Will was her reason for everything and the reason she was alive right then. If not for her fervent hope that she would be reunited with him, Lena knew she would have given up in the Vault of Souls.

Will's eyes likewise filled with tears as she finished. "You're so amazing, Lena. I'm so blessed to have you. I'll always love you."

"So is this where I say, 'I now pronounce you man and wife'?" Brom quietly questioned, clearly reluctant to interrupt.

Lena and Will both laughed as they forced themselves to focus on Brom. "Yes, I guess so," Will answered.

"Well then, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss your bride."

Will gladly accepted the invitation, and they kissed for the first time as husband and wife.

Their friends avoided any loud celebrating before offering their congratulations, apparently mindful of their secretive presence on the island. Then Will asked Hanna, "Are you done healing her?"

"Yes. Do you need anything to help you get cleaned up?"

"Water," Will matter-of-factly stated, and everyone laughed. Lena guessed that Will hadn't been his normal cheerful self for the past eight months, and the group seemed glad to have him back.

"There's a stream nearby," Lena informed. "But it's cold."

"I'll make it pool somewhere and warm that area up," Hanna said. "Like I did for Sara and Freddie."

Will noticed Lena's confusion. "I'll tell you about it later, honey. I have everything I need in my pack. But Lena might not want to smell like my soap and shampoo."

"She can use any of ours," Zadí offered, digging out the needed items from the pack Var held. "All of us girls use the same shampoo and soap."

"And here are some of her clothes," Keeta contributed. "When we prepared last summer, I gathered supplies for everyone, including Lena. I grabbed some as we abandoned the ship, knowing Will would stop at nothing to find her."

"Abandoned?" Lena repeated, accepting the proffered items from Zadí and Keeta. "Is that what you meant about rowing for a week?"

Will nodded. "Tenga blasted the ship apart. We rowed here in the long boat. Let's talk about that later. I really need a bath."

Lena smiled. "Me too. I'm ready to go."

"We'll be back . . . later," Will called as he turned to follow Hanna.

"But it had better not be too soon," Var rejoined.

Their friends' subdued laughter followed them down the hill.

-:-:-

After Hanna created a warm pool for them to bathe in, she left Will and Lena alone.

"Let's go in with our clothes on so I can get rinsed off," Lena requested. "I don't want you to have to deal with the mess."

Will started removing her boots and socks as he said, "You know I wouldn't care, Lena. But if that's what you want." He then bared his own feet before walking with her into the water.

"It feels so wonderful," Lena commented. "I'm embarrassed to let you see me naked. I'm sure I look like a skeleton."

Will made a face. "Lena, don't be ridiculous." She was floating in front of him and holding on around his neck, so he lifted one hand and cupped her cheek. "You will always be the most beautiful girl in my eyes, but _this_ is what I love most about you. What's in here." He moved his hand and rested it over her heart. "And in here."

Lena nodded. "I know. And I feel the same. But there's a good chance I'll still enjoy your body a great deal." Will grinned. "Especially after a week of nonstop rowing."

"But let's get washed up," he insisted. "I really do need a bath. I'm sure my stench is worse than yours. You should have smelled me after we fought the Shade in Ilirea. She had this eel monster with goopy green blood and innards. I had to hack open his stomach to get your ring back, so I got covered in it. Lucky me."

Lena giggled, and Will smiled, pressing his lips to her forehead. "I missed that sound so much, honey. I would dream of it, of you."

"Me too."

They soon removed their wet clothing so they could wash up. Lena saw Will's concern as he observed her gaunt frame, but she wasn't as mortified as she had imagined. Will seemed to care nothing about her altered appearance as he tenderly helped her bathe.

And she returned the favor, enjoying his muscular form as much as she anticipated. They talked the whole time, attempting the impossible task of catching up on all that had happened while they were apart. Will made her laugh just like he always had, and Lena realized she hadn't laughed so hard and long since before Tenga kidnapped her.

Being together felt just as natural as they had always dreamed, and by the time they finished washing up, it almost seemed like the past eight months hadn't even happened and they were snuggled up on the shore of Lake Arya after Will had proposed. But their bond was so much stronger than they would have expected after what they had endured in the intervening time.

"I love being with you, Will," Lena murmured with her cheek resting against his chest as he playfully swayed back and forth. "We haven't even made love, but I already feel like we've been married for years. It's perfect."

"Yes," he agreed. "And we don't have to do that right now, Lena. I'm more worried about hurting you than I would have been before. You were already slender, but now you seem so fragile, like you would break in half as easily as a toothpick."

Lena hesitantly asked, "You're not . . . repulsed by my body, are y—"

"Lena," Will sternly interrupted. "Hush. Of course not. You're beautiful. I want you as much as ever. I'm just worried."

"We don't know what might happen to us, Will," Lena reasoned. "We still have to fight Tenga. Please do this with me, for me. I want to experience what it's like to be your wife in every sense of the word. I was so worried Tenga might rob me of this precious opportunity when all I wanted was you. You're everything I've ever wanted in a friend, husband, and lover."

"Thank you," Will whispered. "I'll do anything for you. But let's stay in the water."

Lena gazed up into his golden-brown eyes, nodding slightly to convey her agreement. Their gaze never wavered as he lifted her. She wrapped her legs around his waist, settling down once she had assumed the necessary position. Her eyes filled with tears and she exhaled a trembling breath as she pressed her face into his neck.

It wasn't a moment of passion, but of healing and love. "Now I feel whole," Lena breathed. "Thank you, Will. I needed you."

And he simply held her, enjoying the expression in its purest form and allowing Lena to begin slowly overcoming the trauma of her imprisonment on Vroengard.

After spending the week bound to the wall in the Vault of Souls, Lena felt the exhaustion of not eating or properly sleeping in all that time. She and Will did nothing more to consummate their love that day before he noticed her fatigue and suggested they rest.

Will left the water with her still wrapped around him. He lay down on his back after spreading a blanket on the ground and pulled it over them once they were comfortable. Lena fell asleep as Will's wife with her ear over his heart and happy for the first time in eight months.

-:-:-

Will awoke at dusk, and Lena was still deeply asleep. His stomach rumbled painfully, but he made no move to end their embrace. He played with her now dry hair, breathing in the amazing smell of roses, jasmine, lavender, lilacs. Will had always loved Lena's softly curling hair.

He had her back. Will almost couldn't believe that they were together, but it felt as natural as she had said. He would never let her go again. They had to defeat Tenga so he couldn't threaten them anymore.

Before long, Brom's thoughts tentatively touched Will's mind. _Will, sorry to bother you, but Var worried you might be hungry._

 _I am_ , Will responded. _But Lena's still asleep, so I'm not going anywhere._

 _Var and Zadí volunteered to bring you some food. I don't know how he manages, but Ajh still whipped up something amazing for dinner. And he also made some dessert in honor of your wedding. One of Lena's favorites. Interested?_

 _You bet. We're just by the stream._

 _They're on their way,_ Brom finished. _We'll plan our next move tomorrow morning. I've briefly touched Tenga's mind to make sure he's not on his way over here, but I won't do any more digging until we're ready. You and Lena deserve at least this one night together undisturbed._

 _Thanks, Brom._

Will soon heard sounds indicating Var and Zadí's arrival. They set several plates and bundles beside him as they sat down nearby.

"Can we talk?" Var softly asked.

"She's out," Will answered, using the same quiet tone. "I can't imagine how hard this last week was for Lena. She barely slept because she would start to strangle on the stone binding around her neck."

Zadí's face scrunched in concern. "You two went through so much. I'm so glad you're together again."

"Yes," Will agreed, smiling. "But our first day together as a married couple was nothing like yours. I could hear a lot of what happened that day."

Zadí giggled as Var grinned. "But that's understandable with how Lena is feeling and what she went through last week," Zadí sympathized.

"Lena needs to heal, physically and emotionally, before she'll be as energetic as you seemed, _sister_ ," Will teased.

Zadí covered her mouth to smother a louder laugh. "True. But I'm sure she'll get there. My husband is an identical copy of you, and I can't ever seem to get enough of him. Maybe you two will soon join us, Brom, and Brin. We'll all have kids together just like our parents. I love thinking about that."

"I'm happy for you, Will," Var sincerely said. "You should have experienced this joy before any of us."

"After all we went through," Will disagreed, "it was so much sweeter this way. Lena and I decided that it almost seems like we weren't apart at all. It's just so natural being together."

"Good," Var firmly approved, lifting Zadí to her feet as he arose. "We'll go now. Zadí's really tired, but she wanted to come with me. See you in the morning."

"Good night," Will said as they turned to leave. "Thanks for the food."

And he returned his attention to his new wife after his visitors departed.

-:-:-:-

* * *

 **A/N:** I know you all must be anxious for the confrontation! We're almost there, but Will and Lena deserved their moment. Thanks for sticking with me! ~A


	111. Part III 12 Before the Battle

**12\. Before the Battle**

Nefin was awake before anyone the next morning. He silently sat with his back against a boulder buried in the sand, partly keeping watch but mostly brooding. Now Brom, Var, and Will were all married. Nefin wanted to join their ranks more than ever, but he wasn't sure if Keeta was ready. And how would he find out unless he asked her? Anything could happen during this battle they expected to fight. What if someone died? So far they had been lucky. Or blessed. But either way, their lifelong group was once again whole. Would their luck hold forever? It just didn't seem realistic to Nefin, though he obviously dearly hoped for that outcome.

He looked over, somewhat surprised, when the flap to Keeta and Hanna's tent opened. Brin and Keeta no longer shared the same tent. Nor would Brom and Will. They had wives.

Nefin shook his head in discouragement as he ironically thought, _Ajh and I are the only bachelors left in the group. But I'm nineteen like Will, Var, and Lena. And Keeta's eighteen like Brin. Aren't we old enough too?_

Nefin was even more surprised when Hanna didn't exit the tent, as he expected, but Keeta. He sat up straighter, keeping his eyes on her as she made her way over to him.

"Did Hanna tell you I was awake?" he wondered as she seated herself near him.

"Mm-hmm," she affirmed.

"Couldn't you sleep?"

"Not anymore. Thinking about what might happen today. What about you?"

"Me too," Nefin admitted. "And I don't have to sleep unless I want to, so I offered to keep watch last night. Brom needs the rest more than I do. His magical dueling will be far more demanding than shooting a few dozen arrows. But Keeta, what if . . ."

"Someone dies?" Keeta finished in a whisper. "I know. I just can't bear thinking about it. It's like knowing there would only be nine on the ship all over again. The uncertainty is awful." She drew her knees up and hugged them to her chest, resting her chin there as she gazed out past the rock toward the ocean behind Nefin.

"What if something happens to you?" Nefin pointedly asked.

Keeta studied his face. Then she shrugged. "What if?"

"I wouldn't be able to stand it," he answered his own question.

"Well, what if something happens to you?" she defiantly echoed.

"What if?" Nefin returned, just as stubbornly.

"I . . . I . . . can't stand thinking about it," Keeta finally confessed. "I . . ."

"I want to tell you something," Nefin insisted, abruptly sitting forward and taking her hand. "So I can say it now in case I don't have the chance later."

"No," she quickly denied, shaking her head and blinking back tears. "Not like this. Not because we feel a sense of impending doom. Wait to tell me until it's all over and we know we're both fine."

"But what if we don't have that opportunity?" Nefin questioned, raising one hand to stroke her cheek. "I want you to know how I feel, Keeta."

"I know how you feel," she softly reassured, leaning her face into his hand. "You've made it abundantly clear by your every action since we left the Isle. So think of it this way. If I have that to look forward to, I'll be more likely to do what's required of us. I hate thinking about killing people, but we might have to. And that will be my motivation to persevere when it might feel easier to give up."

"Don't you dare give up."

"I won't if you don't," Keeta promised.

"Deal," Nefin agreed. "At least let me hug you."

She smiled faintly and scooted forward until she could lean into his side. He wrapped his arms around her and rested his face against her hair, breathing in the sweet fragrance he had first noticed in Tronjheim during their archery lessons.

"I love your hair," he murmured into it.

"Trying to be sneaky?" Keeta teasingly reproved.

"Had to get away with at least _one_ confession," Nefin rejoined, not denying her accusation.

"Well, thank you, Nefin-elda."

Nefin grinned. _I love you, Keeta. I don't understand your reasons, but I'll respect them. And I_ will _say those words to you. Aloud._

-:-:-

Tenga awoke on this fine morning in high spirits. Things were finally going his way. No more pesky children to deal with. The elven sisters bound on a high mountaintop. Lena in the Vault of Souls. She would surely be dead by now. Of dehydration. The underground cavern was too hot and dry for her to have survived the week without water.

 _Perhaps I will go enjoy my triumph,_ Tenga decided, feeling the same morbid curiosity he often did when contemplating death and suffering. _Before her rotting flesh is too repulsive to stomach. Then I'll wait another year or so to visit her skeleton._

So after a bland breakfast—his only regret in finally dispatching Lena was the comparative poor quality of his meals—Tenga headed off toward the Rock of Kuthian, humming a jaunty tune and feeling rather splendid. He carried Bid'Daum behind him, of course, as was his usual habit now. Couldn't risk the other magicians attempting anything tricky. And Tenga wanted to be prepared if and when the Shade reappeared.

He descended the long stone tunnel to the Vault of the Souls. As his eyes fell on the severed manacles, it took a moment for Tenga to comprehend the scene.

 _How did she free herself!_ he wondered in stunned consternation. Then the truth dawned on him. Of course Lena hadn't freed herself. She had no way to cut the magically formed stone restraints. But a Rider's blade? No problem.

 _They didn't die,_ Tenga realized, his rage manifesting itself in a strange deadly calm. _Those nine children somehow escaped me yet again. And they are now on this island. Come, Bid'Daum. Off we go. This time we will not fail._

-:-:-

By the time Will and Lena rejoined the group that morning, Ajh had prepared a scrumptious breakfast. The friends enjoyed their full companionship more than ever before, though each seemed to share the same unspoken dread about what they might face that day.

Not far into the meal, Brom quietly informed, "Tenga just entered the Vault of Souls. He will no doubt be furious when he reemerges. I'm going to make myself invisible and be prepared to fight him. But he's alone. You others be ready and just wait to see what happens before you attack. I'm sure he's protected by countless wards against bodily injury. Nefin, Hanna, to help the ruse, act like you're magically resisting him. It would still be best if we can deceive him about me and my ability."

The two elves nodded, and everyone else abandoned the food to hastily don armor, retrieve shields, and ready weapons.

"Stay in the tent," Var curtly instructed Zadí.

"You too," Will seconded, guiding Lena to Var and Zadí's tent.

"Please be careful, love," Lena begged. "I couldn't bear to lose you so soon. Tenga might harbor particular bitterness toward you."

"Feelings mutual," Will retorted. "I'll be careful, Lena. But you stay out of sight."

"Remember that I get to kill him," she fiercely reminded. Will nodded as Lena backed into the tent, mentally praying that Bid'Daum would come through for them and not feeling very hopeful.

"I hate feeling so useless," she muttered, and Zadí nodded. "But I'm secretly grateful I don't have to lay eyes on Tenga right now."

"And I'm glad I won't have to see whatever happens," Zadí agreed. "Though being able to hear and not see might be even worse. But watching them fight in Ilirea was horrifying. I still remember how shaky I was trying to keep those ghoulish skeletons away from Hanna while she treated Ajh."

"Thank you for that," Lena murmured. "You allowed Hanna to save my brother."

"We all worked together. We have the whole way and you even played your part, though you weren't with us. I'm sure we'll continue to be successful only as we keep cooperating. Even you will have a role in this final battle as the one who kills Tenga. I guess I'll just be around for moral support."

"Which is just as important," Lena insisted. "You need to keep yourself and your baby safe."

"Yes," Zadí agreed, anxiously rubbing her belly.

Then they heard a livid voice screech, "So you survived, did you? I hope you enjoyed this week, dear friends, because it was your last! Say farewell!"

-:-:-

Brom braced himself for Tenga's attack, already sensing the old magician's reluctance to kill them in spite of his wrath. Tenga would try to end their lives by simply using Bid'Daum to force his way past any potential wards protecting the youth and stopping their hearts.

 _If he uses the dragon, we're done for,_ Brom bleakly thought, mentally releasing the counter spell as Tenga attempted to complete his objective.

 _Hanna, Nefin, now!_ Brom ordered, and the two elves theatrically raised their hands as they chanted several phrases in the ancient language.

Tenga's spell didn't take effect, much to Brom's relief, and he realized that Bid'Daum had not allowed Tenga to draw off his power. The dragon was not only withdrawn into his heart of hearts, but resisting Tenga's abuse in a way he hadn't done when Brom first perceived his Eldunarí.

 _We might have a chance,_ Brom thought, feeling his hopes lift.

Tenga tried another physiological assault, now intending to collapse their windpipes and observe them suffocate to death. This perversely delighted thought raced through the old man's mind: _That will be fun to watch._

Brom again countered the offensive, cuing Hanna and Nefin to keep up their charade.

Tenga cursed angrily. _Help me, you worthless beast!_ the ancient wizard screamed at Bid'Daum. _Now is our chance to kill them all!_

The dragon unexpectedly responded, _No, foul creature. Your time is over. And you will no longer leech off my strength._

Tenga now stood on the stretch of beach in front of the seven visible youth. "So you elves are more powerful than I thought," he derided. "Perhaps I shall do away with you and _then_ remove all of your friends. Not difficult. No, not at all."

He concentrated his next attack on Nefin and Hanna. As he endeavored to sever their spines, Brom again blocked the hex. Tenga's eyes widened incredulously.

"How can you know what I'm going to try before I do it?" he screamed. "I am using mental magic. Surely such young elves are not so gifted as that!"

Brom then attempted an assault of his own, stabbing at Tenga's mind to numb his limbs. Tenga staggered before resisting the spell and recovering from its effects. Then he actually looked fearful, and Brom knew from his thoughts that the old man was shocked the two elves had managed to catch him off guard.

Tenga abruptly stumbled backward, borrowing energy from stones in his pouch before launching himself into the sky and disappearing into the valley.

Once the magician was out of sight, Brom released his invisibility spell and hurriedly directed, "Gather around, everyone. Though he tried to borrow Bid'Daum's vitality, the dragon actively refused to share it. Tenga means to assemble his magicians. He knows we'll come after him, and he was actually afraid at the end after I sent a spell back at him and surprised him. But he still has no knowledge of me, which is good. Well done, Hanna and Nefin, though you need to be especially careful now. He'll somehow target you, thinking to do away with you so that killing the others will be that much easier. We need to expect that his magicians will stand with him."

"They will," Lena said. "They feel a deranged sense of loyalty to Tenga, though he has actually allowed their degeneration into disgusting mutants. They don't feel any pain. He didn't protect them from Vroengard's poison, but he protected them from feeling any discomfort associated with their reactions or from dying because of them."

"Can they be killed?" Brin asked.

"Oh yes," Lena assured. "But not by painful injuries. You'll have to do something irreversible."

"Like beheading them."

"Yes," Lena confirmed. "Shooting them through the brain. Stabbing them in the heart."

Hanna shuddered.

"Brom, why did Tenga seem so wary?" Brin asked. "Surely he isn't that outmatched without Bid'Daum."

"No," Brom agreed. "He wasn't prepared right then because he expected to be able to use Bid'Daum like every other time. But he has others stores, like we do. Precious stones. Since the dragon had just refused to help and I actually stood against Tenga, which hasn't happened in a long while, he was surprised. But he will regroup and when he's ready, he will do better at keeping his wits about him. Hanna and Nefin, I'm really counting on you to protect the others from his and the other magicians' attacks. If I'm blocking his every spell, I'll have no chance to remove his wards, which means we'll never kill him. Someone needs to be able to do one of those things Lena or Brin just suggested."

" _I_ need to be able to do one of those things," Lena grimly clarified. "That's my right."

"Yes," Will comforted. "You'll get to, honey."

"So I'm protecting Ajh, Will, Var, and myself, right?" Hanna nervously verified.

"Protect Lena too," Will requested. "In case they feel vengeful toward her for some reason."

Hanna resolutely nodded.

"And I've got me and Keeta," Nefin said.

"Yes," Brom finalized. "I'll protect myself and Brin. But no physical wards, like we discussed. We can't divide our focus like that or compromise our energy levels when we'll no doubt have so many magical attacks to thwart. I'll keep my mind in contact with Brin's only enough to communicate with her about where I'm at with Tenga, if needed. But I'll be plugging my ears with some of Hanna's beeswax to minimize all possible outside distractions. I can't afford to lose my focus for anything. And that could realistically happen if Brin is fighting right by me. I shouldn't risk letting myself hear her . . . under duress." He glanced in concern at his new wife, thinking about their baby. "If I fail, Tenga wins. And then his revenge will be deadly. He won't stop until all of us and everyone associated with the Dragon Riders are dead."

"Var, I don't want to stay here by myself," Zadí said. "I want to be closer. Not right in the same place as the fighting, but close enough that I won't worry myself to death about what might be happening."

"You have to stay out of sight," Var insisted.

"I will," Zadí promised.

"We need to hurry," Brom urged. "The less time they have to rally, the less prepared they'll be. Lena, do they have weapons?"

"Yes, and they practice with them. Besides honing their magical skills, there's little else to do here."

"This is it," Brom concluded. "Work together and we have a chance."

And with Lena guiding their way, the friends swiftly set off for the main residence.

-:-:-:-

* * *

 **A/N:** So I hate to burst the bubble of my reader who has been impersonating Christopher Paolini, but I have it from the true C.P. that he has never read any Inheritance Cycle fan fiction. After your latest review, when it became clear that you meant to continue the charade, I finally commented on one of Paolini's posts over on Facebook and related the situation. This is how Christopher responded: "No, I've not read any Inheritance related fan fiction, yours included. Because of the current copyright laws in the United States, if I read something a fan wrote and then I wrote something even vaguely similar down the road, I could be liable for plagiarism. Legal concerns aside, it would just be too strange for me to see someone else telling a story with my characters. Hope that helps!" You can verify that by simply visiting his FB page and reading the comments of his most recent post (as of today, 9/20/2016). Anyway, you needn't stop reviewing if you like doing so, but there's no need to keep pretending you're Christopher Paolini because I know it ain't true! And thanks to everyone else for reading and reviewing (when you do—love ya, Megan!). I'd love to hear your thoughts. ~Autumn


	112. Part III 13 One Down

**A/N:** This chapter contains mature violence.

* * *

 **13\. One Down**

Tenga magnified his voice once he reached the stone hall where the other residents of Vroengard gathered for most of their daily activities.

"Retrieve your weapons and assemble yourselves!" he bellowed. "We finally have a war to fight, and we shall triumph!"

As the magicians scattered to fulfill his commands, Tenga made a quick detour to his study. _Those elves,_ he mused. _So strong. Unexpectedly so. And how could they read my thoughts?_

He then guarded his mind to prevent unwelcome observation as he retrieved what he hoped would be an unanticipated threat to the elves.

 _If I can take them out, none of the rest stand a chance,_ Tenga determined. _None of the other former Dragon Riders can still use magic._

Something nagged at the back of his mind. _But didn't Trianna say there were three elves?_ he remembered. _Where was the third? Hiding? Or perhaps he or she died in Ilirea. Well, I will deal with those two and remove this threat once and for all. Wretched dragon! Waiting until just the right moment when I would have no opportunity to coerce him. Might as well leave him here for all the good he is now. And I really must hurry! Those children won't wait long. They will attempt to attack while we are disorganized. Lena has no doubt shared something of my army's unique features._

Tenga chuckled in a twisted sort of way before exiting his study. He rejoined his ragtag band in the main hall and formed them into loose ranks, preparing his mental and physical attack for the moment the children passed through the door.

-:-:-

While Var and Will each carried their wives, the rest of the ten friends ran down the vast stone corridor leading to the main hall. Brom had established a mental link between their minds, which he intended to end as the fighting began.

 _They're up ahead,_ he informed.

 _Yes, that's the main hall,_ Lena shared. _Tenga must have gathered them there._

 _This is so much like home on the Isle_ , Zadí commented of the soaring stone ceiling and arching walls. _Except that it's all so dilapidated._

 _I remember feeling the same when Tenga first brought me here_ , Lena said. _Some of the ancient Riders' dragons might have actually filled these enormous hallways._

As they neared the massive doors, Brom instructed, _Be ready, Nefin. You too, Brin and Keeta. We need to take down as many as we can with arrows. Everyone else remember the plan._

 _Will we be able to open those doors?_ Keeta asked. _They're huge._

Nefin grinned down at her. _Elven made, Keeta. They'll be as easy to open as lifting a feather. You should know a thing or two about that from dwarven architecture._

Keeta smiled faintly and shook her head in amusement.

 _Zadí, this is where you wait,_ Var said, setting her down several paces from the door. _Don't watch. It will be disturbing._

Zadí vigorously nodded her agreement as she pressed against the wall to give the others room to pass.

 _You too, Lena,_ Will seconded. _Only come in when it's time._

 _What about me?_ Swiftpaw asked. _I am a werecat. We are known for our ferocity in battle. I would be a part of this._

 _Swiftpaw, stay with me,_ Lena suggested. _We will go in together to fulfill our task. But we're still so weak. This way we won't get hurt before._ The werecat conveyed her acceptance.

 _And I'll stay here too,_ Hanna offered. _I can better perform my role without many loud or distracting movements._

 _No more waiting,_ Brom said, making himself invisible. _Brin, we'll stay near one wall. I'll work as quickly as I can, but Tenga might eventually realize what's going on. Be ready._

 _Be careful_ , Zadí and Lena thought in unison, and their husbands gave them each a kiss before turning toward the door. Then the brothers shoved them open, shields up as protection, and charged straight ahead into the hall with Ajh closely following, all three shouting as loudly as possible.

-:-:-

Var, Will, and Ajh made a spectacle on purpose to give Nefin the chance to slip in unseen behind. He hung back in the shadows along the wall perpendicular to the one Brom and Brin hugged, releasing an arrow a second. Each projectile sank into a stunned magician's eye, and before fifteen seconds had passed, the same number of enemies had fallen. Brin had already brought down five in the same manner, and Keeta wasn't far behind that with her bow and arrows.

As Nefin continued to mow down the opposing army, he expertly surveyed his surroundings and the layout of the battle.

The expansive room rivaled the Great Hall on the Isle of the Eldunarí in size. Hundreds of feet wide, deep, and high, it would have accommodated dozens of dragons each decades old. Once graceful stone walls—now pockmarked relics of Galbatorix's senseless destruction—swooped up in a series of patterned columns away from the interlocking stone floor. Along the perimeter of this elevated ceiling gaped enormous open spaces large enough for a dragon several centuries old to fly through.

At a less dizzying height sparkled the remains of what Nefin guessed had once been spectacular stained-glass windows of elven creation. Now only jagged fragments stuck out of the stone sills at odd angles, reminding Nefin of a cavernous maw with sharp pointed teeth. Glittering heaps of colorful glass littered the floor at the base of these formerly grand masterpieces, reflecting light from the sun in a pretty way. Nefin supposed that might explain why the residents hadn't cleaned them up.

Though according to Lena this hall served as the main living area of Vroengard's bedraggled inhabitants, it smelled of decay and ruin—piles of damp rubble covered in mildew, puddles of stagnant water, the stench of underground sewage wafting through crevices in the floor, and the fresh reek of fear and death.

The sounds accompanying these newest smells bombarded Nefin's keen ears as they bounced off the stone walls and echoed around the vast space. Indignant shouts and screams rent the air as his arrows reached their fleshy marks. Deranged laughter grated on his ears—paradoxical evidence of the mutants' immunity to pain.

Var, Will, and Ajh had run into the room together and plowed through the middle of the first ranks of enemy magicians, forming a triangle with their backs facing one another. Already they had decapitated a dozen opponents, while also chopping off arms, legs, and other deformed limbs as needed to keep the horde from trampling them.

Nefin's first task was to clear a path for these three so they could attempt to keep the majority of the fighting focused on the center of the room—away from himself and Brom. From his first sweeping glance, Nefin speculated that he and his five fighting friends had over a hundred and twenty enemies to kill. He didn't allow this knowledge to sicken him as it would have under normal circumstances.

Tenga was located centrally near the rear of his mob, perhaps hoping to avoid detection, though Nefin easily spotted him. And the ancient sorcerer stared straight back at him, clearly intent on targeting him as Brom had warned. But he didn't concentrate on Tenga. That was Brom's responsibility. Nefin, on the other hand, needed to kill as many people as he could as quickly as possible.

Only thirty seconds had passed since he had darted into the room, and Nefin had already shot as many people. He now changed his tactic and sent every other arrow directly at Tenga. These flew askew due to the old wizard's wards—Tenga smiled crookedly when he noticed—but Nefin really only hoped to make Brom's task slightly easier by draining Tenga's vitality.

"The elf!" Tenga screamed. "Go get him, you fools! There should be two! Where is the other?"

Knowing he was nearing the end of his supply of arrows, Nefin redoubled his efforts—shooting two a second—as those closest turned away from the trio in the middle and rushed toward him across the great distance as swiftly as their deformities would allow.

 _I have to take out as many as possible. Even if I could kill half, my friends are still outnumbered ten to one._

Nefin instinctively dodged when something tiny buzzed by his face. But he couldn't quite identify it, as intent as was his focus on his job. He took out another magician and nocked his next arrow, using a hasty spell to summon all the stray arrows he had shot toward Tenga. His momentary attention to this minor effort distracted him enough to miss the next small projectile sailing his way, and Tenga's triumphant chortle—which he saw more than heard—alerted Nefin to his mistake.

The tiny dart—small as a needle—buried itself in the exposed skin under his jaw. Nefin felt the magical force behind the dart and knew Tenga had driven it into this area unprotected by his armor. And the only wards they had devised were against magical aggression.

Nefin swiped the dart away, already feeling the poison's effects.

 _A poisoned dart!_ he irritably thought. _Really, Nefin!_ This _is how you're going to die?_

The second dart landed opposite the first, and Nefin staggered against the wall.

-:-:-

Keeta was close behind Nefin, who hadn't move far from his initial position, and this unexpected reaction made her look over. He sagged into the wall, dropping his bow and clutching his throat.

"Nefin!" she hissed. "What's wrong!"

"Poison," he choked, falling to his knees.

Keeta's heart froze and she slung her bow over her back so she could remove her shield, which she protectively held up as she dashed to Nefin's side. His eyes rolled in their sockets and drool dripped down his chin.

"Nefin!" she helplessly cried. "Nefin, no!"

He forced himself to focus, and Keeta saw how hard it was for him. Raising one hand to her face, Nefin opened his mouth.

"Keeta—" he began, but frothy white foam filled his mouth, drowning out his next words. Nefin gagged on the lather, and his eyes again disappeared behind fluttering lids.

"Nefin!" Keeta panicked, grabbing his face. "You promised!"

Nefin once again managed to glue his eyes on hers. In her mind his voice firmly thought, _Keeta, I love you. Don't give up._

Then they slid shut, though Keeta could see how wildly they darted about. Veins stood out on his forehead and in his neck. More foam bubbled from his mouth. His breath escaped in short bursts.

Keeta knew she was running out of time before she would have to rejoin the battle. Mutated men and women were still hurrying toward Nefin in fulfillment of Tenga's orders, and she guessed Brin was doing her best to keep them at bay with arrows from afar.

"Hanna!" Keeta screamed, praying she would hear over the clamor. "Nefin's been poisoned!"

Nefin slumped to the ground, and Keeta heard Tenga release a fanatical cackle followed by the gleeful declaration, "One down!"

Anger flared in Keeta at these words, but she stooped down and whimpered, "Nefin, I'm so sorry. I love you too."

Hanna appeared two seconds later.

"There's the other!" Tenga hollered. "Target her!"

Keeta kept her shield up to block Hanna as the elf fumbled in her pouch.

"Nefin," Hanna mumbled. "No, no, no. Please, Nefin." Then she gasped and cried, "Ajh!"

Keeta risked a quick glance over her shoulder. Through the choppy movement of misshapen magicians stumbling her way, she watched Ajh's shield dissolve as he raised it to block a swinging cudgel. The club hit him in the temple. He staggered back into Will, barely keeping his feet as he beheaded the attacker. Then another enemy demanded his attention.

Keeta felt sick. Even though Nefin must have killed fifty people in the first minute or so of fighting, her friends were already overwhelmed by how outnumbered they were.

"Keeta!" Hanna exclaimed. "I can't focus on Nefin and combating all of their spells at the same time. Pour this into his mouth. Hurry! They're coming for me! You'll have to hold them off!" She hunched into the wall, wrapping her arms around her knees and lowering her face to focus on sustaining the magical wards protecting their friends. Keeta wondered if Hanna had taken over defending her when Nefin lost consciousness and felt a fleeting sense of admiration that the elf could concentrate on shielding so many people from countless magical attacks.

Keeta quickly obeyed. She scooped the foam from Nefin's mouth and unstopped Hanna's vial, pouring its contents down his throat.

 _Please work_ , she thought, dropping the bottle as she sprang to her feet and spun around.

"You'll never touch them!" Keeta screamed at the flock of disfigured magicians closing in on her. She twirled her axe, chopping off the legs of the first creature to reach her and taking off its head on the back stroke. She screamed again as blood spurted all over her but had no time to react to the nausea before she repeated the actions, removing arms, legs, and heads with every swing of her axe.

This one had a huge growth bulging from the side of its head like a second brain. Slice. Both heads rolled. Keeta gagged.

As the herd of assailants spread out to surround her, Keeta was aware of arrows sprouting from backs and ears to bring them down. Brin really must have been helping from where she squatted in front of the adjacent wall, and Keeta was grateful for her friend's assistance.

One side of the next mutant's face was completely slack, and a disturbing skin tag waggled from the middle of its cheek as the creature screeched in an unearthly tone. Squelch. Another head gone.

The next man had grisly burns covering all of his exposed skin, like he had been dipped in a vat of acid. Keeta took off one arm, but before she could shorten the man by hacking off his lower legs, he swung his sword at her neck. Rhunön's armor and helmet protected her, but Keeta was vaguely aware of her braid falling to the floor in a shower of blood as she truncated the man.

 _My hair!_ she despaired. _It's gone! And Nefin loved it so much._ This she thought as she finished off the scarred man and his head joined the many others already surrounding her. Keeta didn't have time to dwell on her increasing queasiness or exhaustion, for each magician who fell was replaced by another. And she would never let them hurt Nefin or Hanna.

-:-:-

Using the name of the ancient language, Brom feverishly worked to reverse Tenga's wards. He was overwhelmed by the vast quantity, but he really wasn't surprised. Tenga had had countless years to formulate his safeguards.

Brom sensed the cheerful thought, _One down!_ as Tenga's plan finally became obvious. The old wizard had been zealously guarding his plot to bring down Hanna and Nefin, and Brom had only been able to hope that their magical wards would deflect the attack, since he was focusing all his effort on making Tenga killable.

But Tenga's offensive wasn't magical. It was physical! At least, mostly physical. Rather than casting a spell directly at Nefin, Tenga had used magic only to ensure that his unexpected weapon would make contact. And because of Brom's oversight, Nefin had been hit with two poisoned darts! Would one of his best friends die?

Brom didn't have time to mourn, for Tenga then began assisting his devoted followers with a magical onslaught. Huge flames suddenly erupted from all of the high windows, rushing down toward the skirmish below. Brom felt Brin cringe beside him, and he instinctively reacted to divert the fire away from his friends.

Thanks to their mental link, Brom couldn't ignore Brin's appalled thought as it passed through her mind: _Tenga didn't even worry about his followers! Now they're all on fire, but it doesn't even hurt them! And that laughing! Ugh!_

Still using her bow, Brin took out two more of the magicians swarming Keeta before Brom forced himself to focus, feeling grateful he couldn't hear or see—at least, not with his own eyes—the scene Brin described. But he did extinguish the burning magicians so his friends wouldn't be harmed by the flames.

As Brom rifled through Tenga's thoughts, removing wards and anticipating the ancient wizard's next assault, he also sensed something about what Tenga was observing, which was how he became aware of his other friends' desperation. They each grappled with a handful of magicians, but there were still so many enemies standing, milling about the fringe of each clash as they waited their turn to face an opponent. Brom hated to admit it, but he realized that Brin needed to be more involved in the fight than shooting arrows from a distance or the rest of their friends would be overwhelmed by sheer numbers, no matter how skilled of fighters. But she would never leave his side.

With Nefin now unconscious or dead, Hanna would be maintaining wards on herself and all of the fighters besides Brin, which was too much for one person. If Brom hadn't reflexively protected his friends just then, they might have all been incinerated.

Brom knew he couldn't hold back any longer, even if it meant giving away his whereabouts and endangering Brin. He needed to get Tenga and some of his devotees' attention away from Will, Var, Ajh, and Keeta to help both them and Hanna. So he began not only blocking Tenga's spells but also mounting an offensive of his own, all while continuing his efforts to remove Tenga's magical protection.

Gaining inspiration from Tenga's first major enchantment, Brom harnessed powerful gusts of wind from outside and whirled it in through the destroyed windows. He funneled the gale toward the collection of magicians surrounding Keeta and the three men back-to-back in the middle of the room, distracting them long enough to give Hanna a brief respite. Brom could feel how exhausted she had become, though she was bolstering her strength with vitality from the precious gems in all of the Rider's blades.

Tenga's wrath escalated when he realized that someone besides the two visible elves was using magic to attack his cohorts.

 _There_ is _a third!_ he fumed. _Those two were never fighting me. No, it was_ this _one. But where!_

"Where are you!" Tenga bellowed, though because of the beeswax stuffed in his ears, Brom was aware of the communication only through the sorcerer's mind. "Show yourself, coward!"

Enormous chunks of the ceiling abruptly broke away in response to Tenga's next effort, a reflection of his wild rage. He channeled all of the rubble toward those fighting against his supporters, including Brin.

Steadying himself against the heaving ground, Brom finally drew power from the belt of Beloth the Wise as he redirected the thousands of pounds of falling rock toward Tenga and the magicians standing guard around him.

Tenga exclaimed in surprise and fury, and Brom felt Tenga's corresponding energy dip as he was forced to throw the immense weight away from himself.

Tenga retaliated by targeting Brom's friends with spells designed to cause bodily harm—bursting eyeballs, compressing lungs, or tearing off limbs. Brom countered them all by recognizing Tenga's intentions before he executed them.

Brom ripped all of the sharp implements from the hands of the enemy magicians nearest their master and sent them sailing toward the old wizard's heart. These Tenga narrowly evaded by magically reversing their trajectory and returning them to his overzealous followers.

Tenga's next endeavor consisted of creating a gaping fissure in the floor. Acting entirely unconcerned when several of his crazed enthusiasts fell into it, he summoned forth a flood of putrid sewage from beneath the city and guided the wave toward the former young Dragon Riders.

Brom gagged as the stench assailed his nostrils, but he thwarted Tenga's trick by forcing the rancid muck back into the yawning crevice and slamming it shut.

Brom then levitated all of the arrows from Keeta's quiver—since Nefin's was empty—and shot them at Tenga's head. The ancient sorcerer's livid holler, along with the sensation of pain—again only evident through Tenga's thoughts—indicated to Brom that at least one of the missiles had somehow grazed his opponent. Brom felt a surge of relief that his work of removing his adversary's wards was beginning to be fruitful.

But as he finally recognized that Brom had been busy doing more than simply mounting a physical attack, Tenga reached his limit. _That's enough!_ he mentally shrieked with panic filling his thoughts when he realized that many of his wards no longer protected him. _Where are you!_

Brom sensed as Tenga swept his eyes and mind around the room in search of Brom's energy. Though he couldn't see or perceive Brom, the old man easily identified the blaze of light emitted by the diamonds in the belt.

Brom read the words in Tenga's mind as he hysterically bawled, "Attack the Urgal! Over there, you fools! She's guarding someone immensely powerful behind her! A boy! Kill the boy!"

Tenga's line of sight revealed a throng of lunatic magicians as they turned in unquestioning compliance and swarmed toward Brom's wife. Brin loosed two more arrows as she fluidly rose to her feet, dropping her bow and drawing her first two daggers. Almost before these two were buried in the nearest magicians' eyes, the next two sank into their targets. How was she so fast?

Brin whipped out her sword, taking one step away from Brom as she beheaded the next three magicians moving her direction in one stroke. On the back stroke, which decapitated another two magicians, Brin hurled her sword away—through another enemy's heart—and snatched her double-bladed staff from her back. She never used this weapon when dueling Brom, as it was meant not for fencing, but close quarter lethal combat like what she faced right now. The last picture Brom saw of Brin through Tenga's eyes was her face set in grim determination as the horde closed in on her. Then he forced himself to refocus on Tenga, ignoring any other feelings that threatened to distract him from his duty of ensuring that Lena could kill their enemy.

-:-:-

In spite of the fact that Brin killed twelve of the magicians rushing toward her in less than ten seconds, she immediately realized that this would be the hardest fight of her life. She was instantly grateful for the steel-silk armor, which protected her body—particularly her abdomen and the baby developing inside—from the numerous blows and jabs of the enemies who managed to reach her.

 _I'll protect you, baby,_ she vowed. _And you_ will _meet your father. No way I'm letting anyone get by me._

To keep them from pulling her down to the ground and reaching Brom, she instantly began involving every part of her body while also never slowing the twirling of her staff. The razor sharp blades on either end allowed Brin to truncate or skewer the opponents surrounding her with far greater dexterity than her sword would have. Brom always joked that she was really good at fighting with her whole body and he was right, especially when Brin utilized her staff.

Rhunön had fashioned this unique weapon for her after learning of Brin's assignment to master all forms of fighting. Ever fascinated with methods and modes of combat, Rhunön had drilled Brin during each of her visits to Ellesméra. On one such occasion, Brin had related a story she heard from her Uncle Eragon—Brin realized with a jolt that he was now her father-in-law—of his exploits during the war against Galbatorix. Uncle Murtagh had taken Eragon's sword, leaving him with only a staff as a weapon. Though less than ideal, the staff had proved advantageous for a number of reasons during his fight with the Ra'zac at Helgrind. Eragon fully utilized these advantages in that contest, and he had shared the experience with Brin during one of their fighting lessons—Brin had privately trained with each of the senior Dragon Riders as she attempted to master their specialties.

Brin's mind flashed back to the present as she bashed the nearest attacker with her forehead. Elbow to the throat. Swipe with her staff. Another head off. Knee to the groin. Another head rolling. She smashed the central handle of her staff into another woman's face, then slashed it sharply forward to decapitate the man pressing in from just behind the woman. Horn in this one's eye. Take out that one's feet. Head off. Kick in his knees.

But the problem was, none of these magicians could feel pain! Usually kneeing a man in the groin as hard as Brin was nearly crippled him, at least temporarily, but these men only laughed and kept right on coming!

That laughing! Could it really be called laughing? Brin remembered other stories from the war against Galbatorix—these told by her Uncle Yarbog or Grandpa Garzhvog. Galbatorix's magically immune soldiers developed the reputation of being the Varden's most feared opponents. Their ghoulish, deranged cackling was enough to set any warrior on edge, especially when blows that usually resulted in death merely resulted in amusement. The injured men would rise up again and keep fighting until the Varden's men were completely exhausted and demoralized.

Soon Brin couldn't even think to keep track of the movements of her hands, arms, elbows, feet, knees, and horns. Too much focus. She was a windmill of reflexes, strictly reacting to the nearest threat and beheading everything in between.

 _Too much thinking!_ Stab. Behead. Kick. Behead.

Brin couldn't hear anything over the demented chortling and her own screams. Screams of horror at what she was doing. How many lives she was ending. She was glad Brom had plugged his ears. She doubted even _he_ would be able to ignore the hellish sounds surrounding him, especially those coming from her.

 _Too much thinking._ Slash. Behead. Elbow. Head off. Shove.

She could barely see around the insane flurry of activity around her.

 _Too much thinking. Trust your instincts. Just keep them away from Brom. If he fails, Tenga wins. And then we all die._

-:-:-:-


	113. Part III 14 Zadí's Gift

**A/N:** This chapter contains descriptions of mature violence.

* * *

 **14\. Zadí's Gift**

After Hanna darted into the fray, hastily informing them that Nefin had somehow been poisoned, Zadí, Lena, and Swiftpaw alone remained out in the hallway. But they were by no means ignorant of what was going on inside, for their ears picked up on the many horrifying sounds echoing within the vaulted chamber just opposite the door they huddled beside.

Thunderous booms and a rush of heat accompanied what must have been enormous flames of some sort. Deafening shrieking indicated huge gusts of wind, which the girls could hear and feel whistling under the door. The stone corridor buckled and debris from a splintering ceiling rained down around the three occupants of the hallway, who crouched together with their arms overhead to protect themselves from the light shower. Zadí hoped the edifice would remain standing. She figured if it hadn't fallen during the battle between Galbatorix and the other Riders, it was unlikely right now.

Then an awful stench coming from heavens knew where concluded the outward evidence of what Zadí guessed was Brom's magical duel with Tenga.

On top of all that, maniacal laughter clashed with gurgling death screams as countless magicians met their end. But the two girls shared the same concern as they identified the nearly identical shouting coming from their respective husbands. Neither one could avoid peeking through the door, which stood slightly ajar after the tremors from the earth finally stopped.

Will and Var fought back to back with Ajh, forming a rough triangle as they faced the relentless onslaught of magicians teeming around the hall. They must have known not to leave their backs unprotected, but it was also clear that the men were beginning to feel overwhelmed.

A trail of carnage led away from the mass near the center of the spacious room toward where Keeta now fought in front of a far wall, encircled by the dead bodies of enemies who had rushed toward Nefin and Hanna on Tenga's command. Zadí could see an arrow lodged in one eyeball of every fallen magician comprising this path and knew they had died at Nefin's hand—before he had been poisoned and Hanna had gone in.

Another line of skewered or headless corpses trailed toward Brin, who was guarding Brom in front of the adjacent wall. As the entrance to the hall was positioned off to one side, Zadí saw Brin when looking straight in from the door, whereas she had to glance over her left shoulder to observe Keeta. But she tried hard not to examine either of her friends or their actions too closely. The scene of bloodshed and death was more disturbing than Zadí could have ever imagined.

Zadí's eyes snapped to Var as she recognized a familiar roar of anger. But it wasn't Var. Will's face twisted into a snarl of pain as an attacking magician lodged its—his? her?—weapon in his hamstring. Will rudely separated the offender's sore infested head from its body in a spray of blood, and Zadí cringed, turning her head away and clamping her lips together as her gorge rose.

"I'm going in," Lena muttered, rising to her feet. "I won't lose my husband this way. Swiftpaw and I can do _something_."

"But—" Zadí tried to object, reaching toward Lena. It was no use. Lena and Swiftpaw joined the battle, running between the enemies fighting Brin and those attacking Keeta to reach the group still in the middle. Zadí anxiously watched as Lena snatched up a weapon from a fallen magician and started slashing at deformed spellcasters near the outskirts of the cluster surrounding her brother, husband, and Var. The werecat pounced on the next nearest person and scratched out his eyes, spitting furiously with her hackles raised.

Despite the horrors of the fighting, Zadí couldn't keep her eyes off Var. He and Will stood head and shoulders taller than anyone else in the room. Their height had prevented them from receiving the same type of injuries as Ajh, though Will's lower half had just sustained a crippling wound. Keeta's helmet seemed to be protecting her head and neck, but Ajh had a serious gash on his temple. The twins' armor and strength made them most equal to the task of mowing down their opponents, especially since they knew two friends watched their backs, which luxury Keeta and Brin did not enjoy.

All three men yelled wildly—partly due to the thrill of battle, Zadí guessed, and partly because they were appalled by the brutality of their actions—as they chopped off head after head, which seemed the main way the former young Dragon Riders were disposing of their enemies. The fighting was happening in such close quarters that they didn't have many alternatives. With the exception of Brin, who used her deadly staff to its fullest, the others were less able to use their blades to pierce eyes or stab through hearts.

Zadí was shocked by the appearance of the disfigured magicians fighting her friends. Fire-blackened flesh stretched over malformed faces, torsos, arms, and legs. Many of the opposing force were now missing limbs, and blood spewed from horrendous wounds that would have led to shock and death in victims not immune to pain. But the protection seemed a cruelty, for the mutants were able to fight on and on as ghastly living corpses, apparently unable to keep themselves from laughing at the terrible mutilation of their bodies. They must have known their deaths were inevitable.

Zadí swallowed hard to keep the bile down, squeezing her eyes shut. But the images of dead magicians in puddles of blood and of her husband fighting haunted her behind her eyelids. And the sounds still grated on her ears.

A shrill cry from Brin forced Zadí's eyes open again. She focused on her sister-in-law, her mouth opening in dismay as she saw blood gushing from a grievous cut in Brin's thigh. The steel-silk armor shielded Brin's torso, but one of the magicians had bypassed the furious swirling of her staff to land the blow. That magician was already dead, but Brin appeared increasingly desperate to hold off the remaining foes, half of whom had thronged her when Tenga screamed, "Kill the boy!"

Right at that moment, a flicker behind Brin demanded Zadí's attention. Brom was suddenly visible again, and several of the spellcasters screeched triumphantly as they finally identified their true target.

Brin redoubled her efforts, though she was clearly exhausted. Zadí could see her determination to keep them away from Brom, but he must have been weakening if his hold on his invisibility spell had failed.

Zadí knew from Brom's many practice sessions with Blödhgarm that his duel with Tenga, though outwardly unimpressive, must have been intensely exacting mentally for him to lose control of his invisibility spell. She imagined that Tenga had performed most of the showy magic, while Brom only worked to counter such enchantments enough to guard his friends while doing the real work of removing Tenga's wards.

As if to confirm her surmise, a rainbow of glittering glass shards abruptly exploded into the air as someone—most likely Tenga—magically scattered the heaps from their locations under the former windows. The spell, though intended to harm her friends and husband, was the only pretty thing Zadí had witnessed since first peering into the hall.

When the broken glass innocuously settled back to the ground, Zadí knew Brom had once again thwarted Tenga's attempt to hurt their friends, but she worried that the old man was forcing her brother to divide his focus. One of the most critical aspects of Brom's success was his ability to concentrate on his task with undivided attention. But Zadí knew Brom would do all he could to assist Hanna, who was unprepared to protect all of the fighters against Tenga _and_ his followers. Doing so was his only way of also ensuring Brin's safety from magical threats.

Zadí's heart turned to ice as she looked away from Brom and noticed a magician crawling toward him from behind. The man had skirted Brin and the others in a wide arc so she wouldn't notice his approach, and he was now headed toward Brom with a knife clenched between his teeth. He slowly advanced, frequently pausing to glance at Brin and make sure she was still unaware of his presence.

The furtive magician reached up and grasped the long knife in one fist, holding it at an upward angle as he continued his cautious crawl toward Brom, who was hunched over on the ground facing toward Zadí, his knees hugged to his chest and his head down in concentration.

Zadí had a chilling premonition of the man driving the knife upward through Brom's brain. Her brother had cast no wards against physical injury, and even the wards against magical attack might be weakening if his invisibility spell had slipped.

Brom's words rang through Zadí's mind: _If I fail, Tenga wins. And then his revenge will be deadly._

Brom couldn't die! Because then everyone else would! Var. All of their friends. Eventually her father and mother and siblings. Zadí couldn't lose her whole family, everyone she loved!

"Brin!" she frantically screamed. "Brin, behind you!"

But Brin didn't hear. She couldn't take her eyes off her attackers for even half a second, otherwise she and Brom would be immediately overwhelmed. And the sounds of shrieking, laughing, spells flying, and weapons clashing effectively drowned out Zadí's warning.

"Brom!" Zadí then tried, slipping through the doors so she could move into the room. But his ears were plugged! What could she do? Var might hear. He had heard her voice in Ilirea amidst the insane din filling the mausoleum where they fought the Shade and her macabre army.

"Var!" Zadí urgently cried. "Var, Brom's in trouble!" Then she tried a mental communication, knowing Var's intent focus on the fighting might block it.

No response. Her husband didn't hear. And he wouldn't have been able to help in time anyway. He was fighting far from Brom on purpose, and he, Will, and Ajh were surrounded by two dozen howling, cackling magicians. Abandoning them now would mean leaving Will and Ajh to die, which Zadí knew he would do in a heartbeat to protect her. But Var had no reason to believe that Zadí had entered the hall.

Then Zadí remembered. Another voice filled her mind, these words echoing across the years. _Your greatest gift will be love, Islanzadí. And since you have no magical or fighting abilities to distract you, you will be aware of the time to offer your gift when it arrives. If you have the courage to accept your role, you will save all whom you hold most dear._

Nefin's dragon Arget had spoken those words to Zadí right before he hatched. At that moment, Zadí had felt the acute frustration of not having any seemingly noteworthy or impressive talents, but now she understood why. All of her other friends were completely distracted by their magical or fighting abilities right now. Nefin was either unconscious or dead. Hanna was probably close to the same with the huge demands of her responsibility. And Brom's life hung by a thread. Only Zadí had noticed because she wasn't distracted by any other expectations. And what greater demonstration of love was there than to lay down one's life for another?

But Zadí didn't want to die! Her baby! She so dearly wanted to be a mother, to meet this precious life she was carrying. All of her and Var's dreams!

Var! How could she do this to him? But if Brom died, Zadí would _still_ die, along with Var and their baby; her mother, father, and siblings; and everyone else she loved.

Arget had prepared her when she was only thirteen. If she could be brave now, Zadí would save everyone she loved the very most. Just two people would die instead of dozens, if not hundreds. She would finally be able to prove her worth and show her love for all of her friends in a sacrifice only she could make because only she was aware of the threat.

Zadí began to run as quickly as she could, feeling a sense of panic as she realized how close the sneaky magician was to Brom and how awkward it was to run at nearly six months pregnant. She would just try to knock the blade away, keep it from piercing Brom's neck.

But as she got closer, Zadí knew that wouldn't work. The blade was too low, right by the ground. And the magician was already raising it!

"No!" Zadí defiantly shrieked. "You won't kill my brother!" The man wielding the knife almost dropped it in surprise. Then he sneered when he saw Zadí—an unarmed, pregnant young woman apparently helpless to stop him. He tightened his grip on the hilt of his weapon and continued the upward movement of his hand.

 _I'm so sorry, baby,_ Zadí mentally sobbed, her eyes filling with tears as she searched for Var's mind. Praying that Var would hear this time—or at least that he would notice what had happened before it was too late to say goodbye—she cried, _I love you, Var!_

As the man drew back the blade to plunge it into Brom's neck at the base of his skull, Zadí made it around her brother and threw herself between him and the knife, hands protectively raised to guard her womb.

-:-:-:-

* * *

 **A/N:** Thank you for all of the reviews and comments after last chapter! I appreciate your support.


	114. Part III 15 Let Go

**A/N:** There is a bit more mature violence in this scene.

* * *

 **15\. Let Go**

Var whirled in the direction of Zadí's mental voice. _That_ was what had buzzed in his consciousness a few moments earlier! He heard her message the second time.

But turning toward her was the last fast movement Var was aware of for what seemed like endless hours. He watched in horror through the small gap between Will and Ajh's shoulders and past the churning movement of bodies in front of Brin as the blade moving in slow motion toward the base of Brom's skull—destined to slash straight into his brain—instead pierced his sweet young wife as she threw herself between the knife and Brom's body.

The blade entered Zadí through the swelling mound where their child was growing and continued at an upward angle, fixing one of her upraised hands to her womb and ending between her ribs as she fell to her knees.

A strangled cry tore from Var's throat and joined Zadí's agonized scream, which seemed like the only sound in the room to Var, though the din of the battle continued. Brin didn't even turn, as absorbed as she was by the handful of enemies still swirling around her, hysterically trying to reach Brom.

Var vaguely realized that Brom was visible—though he should have registered that fact when he saw his wife sacrifice herself to save him—which meant he was weakening. Brom clutched the belt of Beloth the Wise with a white-knuckled grip. He must have nearly depleted the diamonds' incomprehensible store of energy in his mental duel with Tenga.

Before Var's leaden legs could carry him forward, he instinctively blocked a sword swinging his way with his shield and retaliated by beheading its bearer. He slung the shield from his arm into another attacker and felt a morbid sense of satisfaction that it killed the creature—he couldn't tell if it was male or female—by breaking its neck.

 _Then_ his legs moved and Var rushed as swiftly as he could toward Zadí, hurdling prone carcasses and cutting down anyone who stood in his path. He skirted the fighting between them and reached her while she was still kneeling upright, gazing down at the knife jutting out of her body. How was that possible? So many comparatively insignificant details had forced themselves upon his awareness in the mere seconds that had passed. And though he was trying to move quickly, it felt as if he was squelching through thick, greedy mud.

The man whose long knife had stabbed Zadí was still staring in shock at the drastic turn of events, but he had no time to further consider before his head was also rolling. Var shoved the decapitated body out of the way as his sword clattered to the ground from senseless fingers. Then he dropped to his knees in front of Zadí and caught her in his arms as she began to topple sideways.

"Zadí!" Var cried in disbelief at what was happening. She was never supposed to be anywhere near the fighting! "Zadí! Oh, dear god, please no. Zadí." He looked at her beautiful face, but it was twisted in agony and her eyes were squeezed shut. She was taking in short, panting breaths. Each one forced a trickle of blood out of her mouth.

"The baby!" she gasped in anguish. "It's dying!"

Var's gaze inexorably, unwillingly moved to that part of her body. Zadí's free hand grasped the knife pinning her other hand to her swelling womb. A new wave of torment washed over him as he saw the small but insistent convulsions under her clothing indicating their baby's painful death.

He anxiously hovered one hand over the hilt of the knife buried in her body. The words of healing in the ancient language tauntingly flitted through his mind, but they were useless. He couldn't use magic anymore. And he would have to remove the blade before there was any chance of healing the wound, which would only hurt Zadí even more.

"Hanna!" Var shouted across the room. But Hanna was still next to the far wall, now sprawled out on the floor beside Nefin, her silver hair surrounding her head in a shimmering halo. Var guessed that Hanna was barely clinging to consciousness while Keeta struggled to keep the last few mutants milling about in front of them from harming the elves.

Var knew Hanna was still concentrating on maintaining all of the many wards protecting him and the others from magical attack. She was saving all of their lives, but not Zadí's.

"Var," Zadí whimpered. "Var, it hurts. And the baby! Ah! It hurts. I'm sorry, Var. So sorry."

"Shh, sweetie," Var soothed, wishing so dearly that he could do _anything_ to help her. "Shh. I'm right here, Zadí. I'll try to help." He glanced between Zadí's face and her belly and was tortured by his utter helplessness.

Zadí opened her eyes as tears began to leak out and slide toward her temples. They were wild with pain and panic. "Oh Zadí, I don't know what to do. Please, god," Var begged, also starting to weep. "Please take away their suffering."

The thrashing within her womb abruptly ceased, and as Var returned his gaze to Zadí's face, he was relieved to see that it suddenly looked peaceful.

"Thank you, sweetheart," Zadí whispered, the blood forming a bubble between her lips. "Now there are more angels here with you, answering your prayer and taking away our pain. But you were always the first, Var. My angel. My guardian angel."

"Zadí," he sobbed, "I'm too late this time. Too late. I can't help you, sweetie. I didn't hear you the first time you called. I might have been able to help, to save you!"

"Var, you were always just in time. You haven't failed me. You kept me safe so I could give my final gift. This wasn't your fault. It was my _choice_. If I hadn't made it, that man would have killed Brom. I was the only one who noticed because everyone else was focused on their tasks. Turns out I had an important part to play as well. If Brom had died, I _still_ would have died, but so would you and everyone else." Zadí sucked in a shuddering breath, and more blood dribbled down her chin.

As he reached a hand to her cheek to wipe away the red trail, Var was distantly aware of continued fighting around them, but the sounds were decreasing. Only about a dozen magicians were still alive when Zadí's mind had touched his, divided between Keeta, Brin, and the three men in the middle of the hall.

Right above Var, Brin frantically screamed, "Kill Tenga! Brom has removed all of his wards, but he can't maintain control much longer. If Brom falters, it's over for all of us." Her words supported Zadí's argument but offered Var no comfort.

Var hugged Zadí to his chest and wept desperately, but he found he couldn't resist watching almost blindly through his tears as Lena made her way through the obstacle course of dead bodies littering the ground toward the wizened magician in the center of the room, a bloody knife clasped in her hand and fierce loathing etched in her features. Swiftpaw stalked along beside her, and they stopped right in front of Tenga.

Tenga's eyes snapped open, and he pathetically blubbered, "Lena! Have mercy! Wasn't I good to you? I took good care of you!" Then his eyes widened in shock as they fell upon the werecat. "You!" he raged. " _You_ are the reason my prisoners survived! You mangy old cat! No more lives left for you!"

Tenga reached into his robe, presumably for some type of weapon since Brom was no doubt still blocking his magical efforts, but the werecat blurred through the air and landed on his face, clawing at his eyes as Lena raised the knife.

"Goodbye, you horrible, horrible old man," Lena spat and plunged the blade straight into his heart with furious force.

Tenga swatted futilely at the hissing cat as he staggered back, trying to remove the knife protruding from his chest. Perhaps he thought he could heal the wound and keep fighting. But Swiftpaw kept Tenga's hands away from the blade, and he quickly flopped down, convulsing in a sickening manner. Var wrenched his gaze away when it reminded him of his baby dying.

With several decisive strokes of her staff, Brin subdued the last of the pain-resistant magicians standing against her. Though he was already covered in it, more blood showered down on Var. He hunched around Zadí as best he could to shelter her from the grisly downpour, feeling how wrong it was for his gentle, innocent wife to be caught in such a horrific nightmare.

Brin dropped to the floor and hung her head, gasping for air as she applied firm pressure to the wound in her thigh. Var guessed she had fought and killed twice as many as any of the rest of them save Nefin, since so many of the mad wizards had flocked to her after Tenga's command to kill the boy.

Two more magicians still stood in the main part of the room. Will beheaded one of them with reluctant weariness while Keeta slew their final adversary with a perfectly aimed throw of her axe, which lodged itself in the woman's neck. Her deranged shriek cut off in a gurgling croak as she tumbled to the floor.

Keeta collapsed in exhaustion against the heap of bodies in front of Nefin and Hanna, where she had been standing guard since he had succumbed to the poisoned darts. Ajh leaned heavily on his sword, holding one hand to the wound on his temple. Will dropped to his knees as Lena rushed over to him, fretting about the grievous gash on his leg.

When Tenga's death throes ceased and he was finally dead, Brom was released from his intense internal duel. He slumped toward the ground, rendered unconscious by the long magic, but Brin caught him where she was kneeling beside him.

"We did it," Brin mumbled. "But Zadí . . ." she trailed off and looked at Var, who cradled Zadí in his arms. "I'm sorry, Var. I didn't see him. There were so many and it was all I could do to keep them from Brom, but I missed one. I'm so sorry, Var. So sorry."

"It's not your fault, Brin," Var muttered. "She tried to get my attention. I should have protected her. That was my job."

"Var," Zadí weakly panted. "You can't feel responsible. It was my choice, my gift, my last way of showing you all how much I love you. I knew what it would mean when I did it, but it was the only way. I'm not as useless as I always thought."

"No, Zadí," Var pleadingly insisted. "You've never been useless. Never. Please stay with me, sweetie. I can't lose you. Or our baby."

"She's gone . . ." Zadí breathed, ". . . waiting for me. I'm so grateful we had six months together . . . that we didn't wait. I'll always remember that happiness and anticipate the time when we'll be reunited."

"She?" Var numbly repeated.

"Our baby. A daughter. Let me go, Var. It's my time."

"No, sweetie," Var sobbed. "It should be me. Please, god. Take me instead. Please let her live."

Zadí reached for Brin's hand. "Share this with Brom when he awakens," she rasped, and Brin silently nodded. Zadí stared into her eyes for a moment. Brin's tears signaled the communication of some mental message.

Then Zadí glanced at her brother's face. "Goodbye, Brom. I love you, big brother." With great effort, she returned her gaze to Var. "Var, I love you, sweetheart. But you need to let me go. I won't be alone. Keep the locket to remember me by."

"I'll never forget you," Var choked as hopeless sobs threatened to overwhelm him. "But I can't let go. I'm not ready to lose you, Izzie."

The faintest smile turned up the corners of her lips as he used her now-beloved nickname. "Please let him see," Zadí whispered to the area above Var's head.

Var quickly looked up, inhaling sharply as the room filled with brilliant light. Above him stood many people, all of whom seemed familiar, though he hadn't met any of them. The beautiful little girl with gold-flecked green eyes and thick black hair captured his attention.

"Dada," she said to Var. "Mama and I will be together. We'll be happy and safe while we wait for you. But she needs to move on now. Her body is weak."

Var was speechless. Here was his daughter as she would have appeared at perhaps five years of age. He regarded the other people. The two elves, one a male with silver hair and the other a female with black hair, must have been Zadí's grandparents, Evandar and Islanzadí. Then he saw a human man and woman who could only have been _his_ grandmother and grandfather, Monrow and William. Another human man and woman might have been Zadí's other grandparents, Brom and Selena.

The human woman who so closely resembled Var's mother smiled kindly at him. Suddenly he heard his mother's voice in his head, as if from a great distance.

 _Say goodbye to dada,_ Willow gently invited. _He'll rest now in the ground. Pretend he's sleeping._

And then Will's tiny voice. _No! No say bye-bye!_

Followed by another small voice. Var's. _Bye-bye, dada._

Var didn't know how that memory from when he was only one surfaced in his mind, but he immediately identified it as the moment before his father's life was miraculously restored. Yet Var knew he hadn't recollected this instance because the same miracle would now be performed with Zadí, but to remind him that he had been prepared to say goodbye. But how could he say goodbye to his sweetheart, his Zadí?

Var once again studied her peaceful countenance. Zadí really _might_ have been sleeping if not for the blood staining her fair skin. Another bubble of it covered her lips as a weak breath left her mouth. Her body was broken, but in his desperation to keep her, Var was preventing her from passing on. He tenderly stroked her cheek, lowering his face to kiss her for the last time.

"I love you, sweetie," Var whispered with his forehead pressed to hers. "I'll miss you so much. But I'll try to find comfort in knowing you'll be with many others who love you and that you'll be safe while you wait for me. I'll join you as soon as I can." He drew in a trembling, heartbroken breath. "Goodbye, Zadí."

She opened her eyes and smiled at him one final time—her breathtaking, gorgeous smile. "I love you, Var. And I'll be waiting." Then Zadí's life ended, and her stare became glassy and unseeing.

Var looked up at the vision of the world of light. Before it faded, he saw Zadí's spirit make her way to the side of their little daughter. Together they turned to wave at Var with smiles on their precious faces, then they walked away surrounded by many beloved family members.

Var hung his head in despair, sobbing wretchedly. His tears rained down to Zadí's still form. Now that she was gone and wouldn't feel it, he carefully removed the knife from her body and set it on the floor next to Brom. He rested his quaking hand over the ugly wound marring her palm and the perfect swelling of her womb.

"Zadí," he moaned. "I'm so sorry. Zadí. Zadí."

His friends let him mourn for an indefinite time, and those who could mourned with him. Nefin, Hanna, Keeta, and Brom remained unconscious. Ajh tottered over to the small group gathered on the floor and fell down beside them. Will and Lena also slowly made their way over. Brin was already there. They shed countless tears as they tried to grasp that Zadí was dead.

Will finally broke the grief-filled stupor. "Var, we need to leave as soon as possible. Most of us will bleed to death if we can't treat our injuries. We need to revive Hanna so she can tend to us. Brin's about to collapse. I'm in bad shape. So are Keeta and Ajh. Nefin might be dead."

Var lifted his head and vacantly stared in Will's direction. "Shouldn't we bury her?" he dully asked. "But I don't want her body to be so far away on a remote island that I'll never visit."

"We don't have much choice, Var," Will gently said. "We can't bring her with us. Her body will begin to decompose."

"Can we bury her at sea?" Var requested. "Then every time I'm near the ocean I can imagine she's also near. Somehow."

"If that's what you want. I'm sorry, Var. So sorry."

Var nodded curtly and carefully made his way to his feet with Zadí in his arms. "I can carry someone else if needed."

"Who here needs to be carried?" Will questioned. "Lena?"

"No, love," Lena whispered. "As long as I can walk by you."

"Ajh?" Will continued.

"No," Ajh answered. "If I can drink some of her faelnirv, I'll carry Hanna. But I'd better use one of her bandages to dress this wound until she wakes up. Otherwise I won't make it anywhere. You and Brin also have some heavily bleeding cuts."

Ajh wearily arose and began the long trek across the huge hall to where Hanna, Nefin, and Keeta lay. When he reached her side, he rummaged around in Hanna's pouch until her found the bottle of faelnirv and several bandages. He hastily wound one around his head to stem the blood flowing from his temple then gulped down some faelnirv. Var saw him grimace and shudder as he laid the items on Hanna's abdomen so his hands were free to scoop her up. Then he slowly struggled to his feet with her unmoving form in his arms and began to head back toward the others.

Lena met him partway and grabbed the other bandages and the bottle resting in Hanna's lap. Then she hurried back to Will and immediately wrapped one around the gash on his leg. She handed him the faelnirv and repeated her ministrations with Brin.

"Brin, what about Brom?" Will then asked, returning the energizing potion to Lena so she could take it around to everyone who was conscious.

"I might be able to carry him over my shoulder," Brin said, wiping her mouth after swallowing a draught of faelnirv. "But if you can carry Keeta and Nefin together, she would appreciate it. If he dies—or she does—she'd want her last minutes to be with him."

Will nodded, limping the long distance over to Nefin and Keeta.

"Is Hanna still breathing?" Lena wondered of Ajh.

"Yes," Ajh confirmed as he solemnly stared down at Hanna's pale face. The elf was obviously completely drained, and Ajh's concern was just as apparent.

"What about Nefin?" Lena asked Will when he was on his way back. Will had arranged Nefin and Keeta so she was curled on top of him. "Is he still alive?"

"He is. Miraculously. That was some potent poison to affect an elf so quickly. But Hanna must have reached him in time."

Brin then raised herself to squat beside Brom. "I might not be able to get him up on my own," she confessed. "Even with the faelnirv, my muscles are shaky. Maybe from blood loss. Can someone help pull him up as I stand?"

Will and Ajh already had their arms full. So did Var, but he was in the best physical condition of any of his friends except for Lena. He shifted Zadí until he somehow supported her slight weight mostly in one arm and used his free hand to help Brin hoist Brom up over her shoulder.

"I feel bad carrying him like a sack of potatoes," Brin muttered.

"Better than leaving him here," Will reasoned. "No one else can carry him right now."

"I could," Var flatly said. "But I'm not setting Zadí down or letting Brin carry her."

"No," Will quickly agreed. "No one expects that. But maybe we should close her eyes."

"No," Var sharply said. Then he broke down again. "No," he forlornly repeated. "Then I'll never see them again. Her beautiful green eyes. Zadí. My poor, sweet wife."

Will compassionately regarded him. "Very well. I won't last long. We need to go. The smell and feel of death in this room is overpowering. I can't believe we killed over a hundred people. I might never forget those shrieks, their laughter, or all this blood. We're all drenched. Does everyone have their shields and weapons? I guess we can come back if we need to, though I don't want to."

A few weary nods answered him, but most of the youth simply started carefully treading through the slick rivulets of blood pooled all over the floor, making their way back to their camp on the beach.

-:-:-:-

* * *

 **A/N:** If you didn't cry during this chapter, you're made of sterner stuff than I am. Man, you guys. Writing that chapter nearly did me in. I bawl _every_ time I read it. I wrote this over a year ago on September 13, 2015, three days after I posted Part I Chapter 4 and warned that I'd been thinking about some scenes near the end. Well, this was one of them, and maybe you can see why I said what I did then about crying _a lot_. For a couple of days I thought about this scene and tried to come up with a way to make it so Zadí wouldn't die. But I realized I was trying to be the all-powerful author and change the way things were supposed to be. After a few days, I felt peace about Zadí's decision and accepted it, though sadly. Then I had to write it out so my mind could move on and I could get back to the chronological storyline.

As Zadí told Var, it was her choice to give her life to save her friends and just goes to show how much of a difference any of us can make, though we might feel worthless or inferior compared to the many amazing, gifted people around us, like Zadí always did. I couldn't change this outcome without infringing on Zadí's choice. I don't know if that makes any sense, but I wanted to be as courageous as she was and let her die, though it was so agonizing to write, especially knowing—as she did—how it would affect Var.

And it also didn't feel right to bring her back, as I did a couple of times in _The Cycle Continues._ That might have felt right then, when Willow and Varhog so clearly needed to be together to fulfill their roles and when they had been promised their suffering would come to an end, but I'm sure some people just viewed it as a cowardly gimmick (because I wouldn't or couldn't let a character die). Not only did I want to show that I can let beloved characters die when they need to, but it also seemed more realistic. Though I _do_ believe people can be raised from the dead, the more frequent ending is that when we die, we die. And yet, I also fervently believe that death is not the end and that Zadí really is awaiting the day when she and her husband will be reunited.

But letting her die was akin to contemplating one of my own children's deaths. These characters are the result of my creative power as surely as my kids are, so it was extremely difficult. I love Zadí, and I thought she was an amazing, strong character, though she didn't have the outwardly awesome talents many of her friends did. Sometimes that's not most important. Oftentimes, actually. A simple smile really is enough to change someone's whole day or whole life, or—if you remember from _The Cycle Continues—_ a whole world, as was the case when Willow first smiled at Varhog at the tender young age of twelve.

So anyway, love me or hate me. If you were upset by this chapter, I hope you will come to accept it in time and feel peace about Zadí's brave decision.


	115. Part III 16 Grief

**16\. Grief**

Back in the camp, the group was somber. They doused the fire after dinner, not needing the warmth in the humid tropical weather. None of the unconscious had yet recovered. Var had carried Zadí straight to their tent, where he had remained ever since.

Brin sat with Brom's head in her lap, mechanically running her fingers through his hair. Will and Lena huddled together across from her, silently gazing at the burned wood and ashes in front of them. Ajh held Hanna's hand. She, Nefin, and Keeta lay side by side on some blankets Lena had spread out once they arrived.

After an immeasurable span of time, during which the only sounds were those made by insects and wildlife completely oblivious to the friends' grief, Brom began to stir.

Brin focused her vacant gaze on his face, dreading the news she would have to share when he awakened.

At length he did. His eyes were blurry and confused. "Where are we?" Brom rasped.

"Back at the camp," Brin leadenly answered.

Brom cleared his throat. "Can I have something to drink?"

Brin reached for the water skin Lena extended over the fire pit and handed it to Brom. She lifted his head enough that he could comfortably drink.

"Thank you," Brom said when he finished. "So we won?"

Brin nodded, fighting the tears that filled her eyes.

"Will you help me sit up?"

Brin obliged, and Brom glanced around. "Are they all right?" he questioned, gesturing toward the two elves and Keeta.

"They're breathing," Ajh replied. "But unconscious. Nefin was poisoned. Hanna passed out. Keeta collapsed from exhaustion. And possibly the trauma of killing so many people."

"Where are Var and Zadí?"

"In their tent," Brin quietly responded. "But Brom . . ."

He glanced at her in concern. "What's wrong?"

"Zadí . . ." Brin began, stopping when her breath caught. "Zadí is dead."

Brom stared at her for a second, the muscles in his face twitching as he clenched his jaw. Finally, "How? Didn't she stay out in the hall?"

Brin didn't answer. She knew the truth, but not how to share it with Brom.

"She did at first," Lena supplied during the silence. "But at some point she went in."

"Someone got around me," Brin explained with tears streaming down her face. "He was targeting you. Zadí was the only one who noticed. She tried to get my attention, but I didn't hear. She tried to tell Var too. We were all so overwhelmed. So she ran in and threw herself between you and the man just as he tried to stab you. His knife killed her instead."

Brom moved his gaze to his tightly balled fists. "It can't be. Why Zadí? Of all the people to die in a battle. What about the baby? Also dead, I guess."

Brin nodded numbly. "Before she died, she asked that I share something with you when you woke up. She conveyed it as a mental message. I can think about it while you read my thoughts."

"Yes," Brom agreed, not lifting his eyes as two thin trails appeared on his cheeks. He made his mental presence noticeable as Brin recalled Zadí's words. Brom could also see his sister as she had looked when speaking into Brin's mind.

 _Brom, please don't feel responsible for what happened. It's bad enough that Var and Brin already do. It was nobody's fault. I chose to make this sacrifice to save you and everyone I love. If you had died, I still would have, but so many more would have unnecessarily joined me. This must have been my role all along. Right before he hatched, Nefin's dragon prepared me for this task, though I didn't realize it then. Once you all have succeeded in restoring the Dragon Rider pact and the dragons return, ask Arget about it if you want. But please don't try to bring me back. We don't understand how that works, and I wouldn't want to exist as a reanimated corpse, especially now that the baby is gone. If you want to do something for me, maybe you could figure out a way to take my body back to mother and father._

Zadí's mental message ended there, but Brom sensed Brin holding something back.

 _What aren't you showing me, Brin?_

 _Can I wait until we're alone?_ Brom nodded as Brin finished, _But this is what she said right after_.

Through Brin's memories Brom saw Zadí look at his face and whisper, "Goodbye, Brom. I love you, big brother."

Brom lowered his face to his knees and quietly wept, "Zadí. How I wish it could have been me instead, little sister. I love you too. Thank you for saving my life."

Brin didn't know how to comfort Brom or if he even wanted her to try, so she simply sat beside him and cried along with him.

After a while Brom lifted his head and asked, "I want to go see her. How is Var?"

"Heartbroken," Will answered. "But I don't think he would prevent you from seeing her."

"Come with me?" Brom requested, looking over at Brin.

She took his hand and stood, helping him rise. With her arm around his waist, they slowly made their way to Var's tent.

"Var," Brom called when they stood outside the door. "It's Brom. I'd like to come in. May I?"

"Come in," was Var's toneless invitation.

Brin held the flap aside and supported Brom as he ducked through the opening. She followed him through. The tent wasn't large, so they crouched down right inside the door. Brin gingerly extended her injured leg so she wouldn't support any weight on it.

Var sat by the far wall of the small space beside Zadí's face, blankly staring down at her.

Brin saw that Var had been busy since they arrived back at the camp. Zadí was now dressed in the ivory wedding gown she had inherited from her mother. Her face and hands were clean of blood, her hair brushed and spilling over either of her shoulders in dark waves. Her hands were resting atop each other—the wounded one underneath—over the slight swelling of her abdomen. Var had finally closed her eyes, and her mouth was still turned up in the last expression that had graced her lips—a faint smile. But for the lifeless pallor of her skin, she appeared to be sleeping and dreaming of something sweet.

The golden locket Zadí had worn since their five-month anniversary dangled from Var's hand.

Brom gazed at his little sister's unmoving form, new tears replacing those he had shed outside. "I'm so sorry, Zadí," he breathed. "I know how much you wanted to be a mother, how hard your sacrifice must have been. You were so brave. I'll find a way to fulfill your request."

"What request?" Var asked, not looking up. "Can you bring her back?"

"No, Var. She specifically told me not to try. I'm sorry. But she suggested I might think of a way to preserve her body to take home to our parents. Would you have a problem with that?"

Var shook his head. "If it means I could keep seeing her, I would actually like it. And I have another favor to ask."

"I'll do anything within my power," Brom promised.

"Make a fairth of my little girl. Before Zadí died, I saw the baby as she would have appeared at about five. You could just look at the image in my mind. Zadí wanted to add a picture of our child to this locket after she was born."

"Yes, I can do that. Var, I'm so sorry. I wish it could have been me instead."

"Me too," Var muttered. "I mean, I wish it could have been me. You had to live. That was the whole point of Zadí's sacrifice. I'm sure you have even more to do once that Shade returns. Do you wish now that you had considered my suggestion back on the ship?"

Brin warily looked at Var, sensing his bitterness.

Never moving his gaze from Zadí's peaceful countenance, Brom sighed and wiped a hand across his cheeks to clear the tears.

"No, Var," he repeated. "Even now, I still wouldn't have killed all of those magicians in cold blood. They _all_ died. Only one of us did. I'm sorry it was Zadí. I know how hard it is for you because it's just as hard for me. She's my sister. I loved her before you did."

"It's not just as hard," Var disagreed, still in the same expressionless tone. "She's my wife, and you know that's different. You know it would have been harder for you if Brin and your baby had died."

Brom remained silent, apparently unable to refute Var's claim.

Var continued to vacantly stare at Zadí as he asked, "How are we going to get off Vroengard?"

"We should probably discuss that with everyone, but we don't need to tonight," Brom replied. "Will you be able to rest?"

"I doubt it," Var said.

"Can you eat?" Brin wondered. "I'll bring you some food."

"I don't feel like it. Actually, I don't feel anything. It's scary."

Brin's face twisted in concern. "Do you want to be alone?"

Var shrugged indifferently. "Doesn't matter. But I'll stay with her until Brom comes up with his plan. Any ideas yet?"

"Maybe I could heat the sand hot enough to create glass and encase her in it or something," Brom speculated. "But I'm not strong enough to do it right now. I'll have to recover some energy."

"Maybe Bid'Daum would help," Brin proposed.

"Maybe," Brom allowed. "I wonder where he even is. Let's talk about it tomorrow morning. I need to eat and sleep if I'm to have a chance of succeeding."

Brin again began to rise, assisting Brom as she went. "Try to get some rest," Brom advised Var as they left the tent. Brin glanced over her shoulder to see him open the locket and reach out to touch Zadí's cheek.

Brom and Brin stopped back by the others so he could eat some of the stew left from Ajh's dinner. They shared what had transpired in Var's tent before heading to theirs.

Brom offered to heal the cut on her leg, but Brin refused. "I can wait until Hanna wakes up. You need to save your energy for Zadí's request."

Brom apparently had no desire to argue, so he waited for her to get comfortable then carefully situated himself beside her.

Once they were snuggled together in their sleeping bag, Brin began softly weeping. "Brom, I'm so sorry about Zadí. I should have noticed. She shouldn't have died."

"Shhh," Brom soothed. "Brin, it wasn't your fault, like Zadí said. It wasn't Var's. It wasn't mine. That man did what he did, and she made the choice she made. She saved us all. As hard as that is to accept, blaming yourself won't change it . . ." He trailed off and shuddered. "That sounded pretty callous. I don't think it has sunk in that she's actually gone."

Brin shook her head, muffling her sobs in his shoulder. "Maybe I should share the rest of Zadí's memories. You might feel differently then."

"I won't ever blame you for what happened," Brom vowed.

"I hope not." As Brom again began reading her thoughts, Brin recalled the scene Zadí had shared. These were chiefly images, starting from the moment just before Zadí had run into the hall where the battle transpired. Brom saw her scream first at Brin, then at him, and lastly at Var as she attempted to warn them of the threat.

Then she started moving into the room, slowly at first as she considered her options. They heard Zadí's thought process and the words Arget had spoken to her when she was only thirteen. Then she began running once she made her decision.

Brin's weeping increased, and she squeezed her eyes shut, wishing it would erase this memory and reverse the terrible reality she was about the witness yet again. This scene had played through her mind countless times since it had actually happened.

Brom groaned as he watched Zadí throw herself in front of the blade that pierced right through her hand and womb. Both he and Brin experienced what Zadí had as she crumpled to the ground in front of the stunned magician. They felt her shock, heard her cry of agony and despair. Zadí ended the memory after Var reached her and prayed that her pain would be removed.

 _I just wanted you to know what happened since no one was aware,_ Zadí concluded the message Brin had remembered earlier when they sat around the dampened fire. _I knew you would always wonder. But don't show Var. As it is, he'll never stop feeling responsible. I don't want to make that worse._

"There was no other way, was there?" Brom muttered. "No one else noticed. She tried to warn us and we were all distracted, just like Arget foretold. She was so brave. Fearless and defiant, like always."

"Yes," Brin agreed. "But now you see why I said I should have noticed. I should have heard. I was in my fighting mind, but I was totally focused on protecting you."

Brom kissed her cheek. "It wasn't your fault, Brin," he firmly repeated. "The noise in that hall was unbelievable. How are you doing? We're just as indebted to you. Zadí saved me from one person. You protected me from all of the rest."

Brin tightened her arms around his back, struggling to control her crying. "I killed so many people, Brom. I can't stand it. I don't think I'll ever be able to forget their faces, no matter how mutated they were. Arrows spouting from their eyes. Daggers flying. Heads rolling. Blood spurting. Flesh . . . brains . . . hanging from my horns . . ." She trailed off and clenched her teeth together to keep herself from vomiting.

When she was able, she shakily continued, "I was covered in it. So were you. It was so horrible. Sticky. Then dry. And the taste. . . . We all washed up right when we got back, but I feel like I'll be stained for the rest of my life."

"I'm so sorry, beautiful," Brom whispered. "Thank you for going through that for me." Then his tone changed as he added, "Did you wash me?"

Brin nodded, wiping her eyes on his shirt.

"With clothes on?"

"Brom," said Brin in a chiding voice. "What are you getting at?"

"Trying to distract you," he innocently answered. "It has been over a week since we got married. But that night was the only time we . . . you know. Then we abandoned ship and rowed for a week in the long boat. No time for . . . playing."

"Don't you mean wrestling?"

Brom smiled. "Sorry, Brin. I don't mean to be disrespectful after everything that happened today. But it was bad enough without watching you suffer like this. Want to see the baby?"

Brin sniffed, returning his smile as she nodded. So he identified the baby's energy with his mind, linking it with hers so she could witness their child's life.

"Still safe and sound," Brom murmured. "Let's just sleep tonight, Brin. I need to regain some strength. But if we're lucky, we'll dream about our first night together and not what happened today." He kissed the corner of her mouth, then her forehead, nose, and other cheek. "I love you. Thank you for being my bodyguard. We were prepared all our lives for today."

"But no amount of training or practicing could have prepared me for actually killing people. Now I better understand why your father, mother, and Uncle Murtagh emphasize the value of life so highly. I guess anyone except for a really bloodthirsty person would understand the unpleasant consequences of taking lives in a battle. I remember your father sharing how he was haunted by the awful memories of his actions during the war. I don't really want to think about it right now. It's all I could think about while I was waiting for you to wake up. So how was it for you? Fighting Tenga? I mean, I saw all the physical evidence of your struggle, but I didn't know who cast which spells."

"Tenga created the fire, broke the ceiling, opened the floor, and tried to cover you all in poop—" Brom paused as Brin failed to smother a small giggle.

"You're being awfully cheeky," Brin commented, lifting her face to look at him.

"It must be my way of coping," Brom replied as he started running his hand through her hair. "Or trying to make you feel better. I just can't believe Zadí is gone. I worried about your safety and all of the other fighters, but I didn't ever think Zadí would be in danger."

"I know what you mean. I feel terrible for Var. I can't imagine what he must be going through."

"Me neither," Brom agreed. "What he said in his tent is true. You know how much I loved Zadí, how close we were, but it would have been harder for me to lose you."

"I was concerned he might get violent when he asked if you regretted your decision not to kill the magicians before we got here."

"Yes, he did seem really bitter. And I don't blame him, but that doesn't change my mind."

Brin nodded against his shoulder. "It's almost a relief that I can't use magic anymore. I don't have to worry about the ethical considerations of being able to do things non-magical people can't. I'm sorry you were in forced into that position."

Brom shrugged. "Good thing our parents taught us strong morals. Not that it's any easier. Doing what's right doesn't always guarantee a perfect outcome. But that's so subjective anyway. We have a much different definition of the ideal outcome than all of those magicians who died today." He sighed and cleared his throat, using his other hand to rub his eyes. "I'm getting really tired. Do you want to hear any more about my confrontation with Tenga, or should we get to sleep?"

"I would, but we can go to sleep. Sorry I interrupted you a minute ago."

"Not at all," Brom reassured. "Tenga performed most of the showy spells. All I did was counter them and make a big windstorm, though I also launched weapons at him. Most of my effort went into mentally reversing his wards while doing those other things, and you wouldn't have noticed any physical sign of that except that Lena could kill him in the end. Once he finally knew where I was and could attack me directly, we dueled with our minds. My only advantage was that I could read his thoughts before he executed his intentions. Otherwise, we would all be dead. It was stressful. I'm glad I had all those years of practice with Blödhgarm."

"Amazing as ever," Brin admired. "I know our minds were linked, but I guess it was mainly a one-way link. I couldn't sense what you were thinking or doing until you specifically told me his wards were gone."

"I let myself get distracted by your thoughts a couple times," Brom confessed. "Not while I was performing magic, of course. My ability to focus on that is completely automatic now after so many years of practice. I was also aware of quite a bit of what happened because I could observe everything Tenga saw."

"It's strange that he's actually gone. We've been gearing up for this battle for so many months. What do you think will happen next?"

"Let's wait to speculate until we can talk with everyone," Brom suggested. "Now we should rest."

"Yes. I love you, handsome. Good night."

In response, Brom kissed the top of her head and pressed it into his chest. He said no more and was soon breathing deeply. But even after Brin closed her eyes, sleep continued to evade her. Bloody images from that day plagued her for what felt like hours before she finally escaped into a fitful slumber.

-:-:-:-

* * *

 **A/N:** Thank you again for offering so much encouragement and feedback. Keep it up!


	116. Part III 17 Horrors

**17\. Horrors**

Lena sprinted up the beach toward the Rock of Kuthian, desperate to escape the Shade following behind at a casual stroll.

"Will!" Lena screamed as she passed their tent. He would help! "Will, help me! Please!" But there was no time to wait. The Shade was still coming and despite the fact that Lena ran as fast as she could and Trianna maintained the same slow saunter, she was always the same distance away with her cruel red eyes gleaming in the darkness.

Lena continued her wild pace through the forest and up the canyon, but she was so weak. She hadn't recovered yet. Her legs trembled and threatened to give way as she stumbled over roots and past thick bushes.

With her heart racing and lungs burning, Lena reached the sickly apple orchard and dashed under the gnarled branches with her arms upraised to shield her head. She was a few steps away from the clearing when a black tree branch jabbed down at her, snagging her sleeve and pulling her hair. The shadow birds perched overhead chittered their mocking, amused approval.

Lena screamed and swatted at the tree to free herself, lurching forward to land on all fours amidst the raspberry and rose bushes. But the thorns clawed at her clothing and cut deeply into her palms as she scuttled forward toward the solitary stone pillar.

Lena recoiled in horror as a half dozen burrow grubs inched out of the compressed dirt under a stone she overturned in her clumsy haste. They advanced toward her with alarming speed and eager cries of, _Skree skree! Skree skra!_

"No! No! This can't be happening! Tenga protected me from you!" But Tenga was dead, so the wards must have expired.

The Shade's chilling laugh pierced through Lena's momentary paralysis as the monster passed along the abnormal avenue beneath the dead tree branches, looking perfectly at ease in this nightmarish scene.

Lena frantically skirted the plump maggots and panted her true name at the base of the Rock of Kuthian, stumbling to her feet so she could continue her frenzied race through the dark tunnel. A quick glance over her shoulder revealed the expansive archway slamming shut before the Shade could enter.

Lena gasped a sigh of relief and slowed to a walk, struggling to catch her breath. Though her gradual descent took her ever closer to the stifling chamber located a mile below ground, Lena experienced a paradoxical chill seeping through her clothing and past her skin.

 _So close,_ she thought. _Trianna always did seem particularly bitter toward me. But why am I so cold?_

Once Lena reached the Vault of Souls, a new shock awaited. Tenga stood beside the vast white orb of Bid'Daum's Eldunarí, chuckling regretfully in his infuriating way.

"You shouldn't have antagonized the dragon in such a naughty manner, dear girl," the old man reprimanded as he indulgently stroked his long gray beard. "How angry you have made him! I do hope he will finish what he started and strangle you to death, spiteful wretch!"

"No!" Lena shouted. "You're dead! I killed you!"

"Maybe in your dreams," Tenga differed. "But here I am. And who is this? Ah, this must be Will."

 _What! He must have followed me!_ Lena whirled around to see Will charge into the cavern, sword drawn and eyes blazing. Panic filled her heart. Tenga wanted Will dead. "No, Will! Stop! He'll kill you!"

"Get away from her, you old pervert!" Will yelled. "If you touch her, I'll kill you."

Lena froze as Tenga immobilized her with some sort of spell. The wizard likewise restrained Will and approached Lena.

"So noble," Tenga sneered. "But helpless. Just like when I took her from you. Pathetic Urgal half-breed. I'll do whatever I please."

He raised a hand and lovingly caressed Lena's cheek. Then he slid his hand down her neck, along her collarbone, and down her chest. Lena couldn't even squirm, but tears rolled down her cheeks. The same puzzling chill that afflicted her before caused Lena to start shivering as if she was in the northern Spine in the dead of winter.

"No," she begged through chattering teeth. "Leave me alone. I killed you."

In his fury of witnessing Tenga's violating touch, Will somehow broke free of the spell holding him in place and leaped forward brandishing his sword. "I told you I'd kill you!"

But without even turning, Tenga magically ripped the sword from Will's hand and used it chop off his outstretched right arm.

"NO!" Lena shrieked. "WILL! NO!"

Will looked straight at Lena's eyes and calmly reassured, "It's all right, honey." Blood spurted from the stump of his arm. "I'm fine. You're fine. We're together."

"No! You are _not_ fine! Your arm! Will, I'm so sorry."

"Lena, wake up," Will firmly said. "It's only a dream."

Lena's eyes snapped open, and she found herself snuggled into Will's side. His unharmed right hand gently stroked her cheek. Uncontrollable shivering coursed through her body as she struggled to make sense of her new surroundings.

"There you are," he whispered. His beautiful golden eyes shimmered in the gray pre-dawn light filtering through the cracks of their tent door. "I've been trying to wake you up for a few minutes."

"Will?" Lena breathed, raising a hand to finger his face and one horn. "Are you really here? Are you all right? Tenga didn't hurt you?"

"No, honey," Will replied, smiling faintly. "You stabbed him through the heart before he got the chance."

"I'm freezing. Are you? No, of course not. The dream was so real." Lena shuddered, pushing her face into Will's bare chest. "The Shade. Tenga. Bid'Daum. You got hurt—"

"Wait, you just listed Bid'Daum along with the Shade and Tenga," Will shrewdly interrupted. "Do you have a reason to be afraid of the Eldunarí?"

Lena bit her lip and raised her head to study Will's face. She had worried about not being able to tell him of her promise to Bid'Daum. But because he was Will and would do anything to protect her, she hadn't needed to say anything and he had already picked up on the danger.

"I'm not supposed to talk about it. Actually, I can't."

Will returned her searching gaze, reading many things in her eyes. "Because he made you swear in the ancient language, didn't he?"

Lena nodded as he continued, "But he threatened to do what? Could he hurt you? As just an Eldunarí? I suppose he _is_ powerful enough since you can't use magic in any way to defend yourself." Will's face tightened angrily. "As if you didn't already have enough to worry about on this island without some worthless ancient dragon bullying you around! If only he had taken the time to learn that you are the biggest champion for the proper treatment of Eldunarí that I've ever heard of. Tell me what you can, and I'll guess the rest. Then you won't be breaking your promise."

Lena couldn't stifle a soft sob of relief that her nightmare was over. Will was here. He would keep her safe. No matter that he was a Dragon Rider—or would be once again after they reversed Tenga's curse—and highly respected the dragons' might. He would do whatever it took to help her fulfill her oath to Bid'Daum.

Lena pulled herself all the way onto Will's body, hugging her arms to her sides so she was completely nestled into his broad chest. He grimaced slightly, and Lena cried, "Oh, your leg! Did I hurt you? Is it any different this morning? I suppose not."

Will grinned. "Don't worry, Lena. You didn't hurt me, it just hurts no matter what. But I'll be fine until Hanna wakes up." After grabbing an extra blanket, unfolding it, and pulling it up to her ears, he wrapped his strong arms tightly around her back as she began to share what she could of her interactions with Bid'Daum, starting with the night he had first abandoned his hibernation.

By the time she was finished, Will had enough information to accurately surmise, "So in exchange for helping you in a few ways, you promised to end Bid'Daum's miserable existence. But if you fail, he will somehow kill you. Don't worry, Lena. It will never happen. No matter what the elves on the Isle might try to do if they discover your plan, I'll make sure that Eldunarí is destroyed."

"Thank you, love. But before you do, I'm hoping we can figure out a way to protect the other Eldunarí in the Cave from any further future abuse. If no one can ever again coerce a bodiless dragon into serving their twisted purposes, I think the Dragon Riders will be able to adequately regulate magical usage in Alagaёsia."

"Yes, I'm sure you're right. But do you think Bid'Daum will help? From what you said, he seems interested in helping only inasmuch as it guarantees his death."

"I don't know," Lena confessed. "I'm afraid to bring it up because of how selfish he is. He might flatly refuse beforehand, whereas if he has no prior knowledge of my wishes, Brom—or whoever performs the magic to reinstate the Dragon Rider pact—might be able to use Bid'Daum's power to also ensure that other outcome."

"Do you know where Bid'Daum is now?" Will asked.

"Not exactly, though I would guess Tenga left the dragon's magically reduced form in his study after he flew away from the beach yesterday morning, since that was when Bid'Daum stopped helping him."

"Would he be aware of what we're discussing right now?"

"He _could_ be," Lena said, "but he most likely isn't. He rarely bothers himself to be aware of what's going on right in his presence. The most he exerted himself before you arrived was to determine whether Tenga meant to molest me, and then he would somehow distract Tenga."

"For that much, at least, I'm grateful," Will admitted, and Lena fervently nodded. "Well, I suppose we ought to discuss some of these things with the others, and Ajh will be up soon working on breakfast."

Lena smiled and pushed herself up so they could begin to dress for the day. "I'm so glad—so inexpressibly thankful—that you found me and we're together again as a group."

"Except for Zadí," Will sadly reminded, his eyes watering. "Poor Var. I think I might be able to imagine what he's going through. It's probably similar to what I felt all those months we were searching for you, but worse in the sense that he doesn't have the hope I had that I would find you alive in the end. Zadí is gone and he knows nothing will change that now."

"Yes, but maybe Brom has thought of a way to return her body to the Isle."

"Do you imagine Bid'Daum will help like Brin suggested last night?"

"I would be very surprised if he did. Since he has never acted altruistic before, I don't see his behavior changing now."

"We can ask Brom what he wants to try once everyone is awake. We'll have to find Bid'Daum and these elven sisters eventually."

"We should search for Iduna and Nёya today," Lena agreed. "They've been chained up somewhere for a week. I hope Bid'Daum kept his promise and somehow helped them obtain water so they wouldn't die of dehydration."

Will nodded. As they were both ready to leave, he held the tent door aside and let Lena exit before him. They continued chatting on their way to the fire where Ajh already had his meal prep underway and offered to help once they stopped.

"Mornin', sis," Ajh cheerfully drawled. "We're getting low on food supplies. Anything to eat on this wonderful island?"

"Plenty," Lena assured, smiling at her younger brother's happy manner in spite of the sadness permeating the camp. "But we would have to go back through that hall where we fought yesterday to get any of it."

Ajh made a face. "No thanks."

Then he turned as Brom spoke up behind them. "I think I'll need to go back to find Bid'Daum's Eldunarí, which is somewhere over there. If Lena can give us directions, Brin and I will pick up the food."

"I'm wholly supportive of that plan," Will declared. "I have no desire to revisit that slaughterhouse. But we may want to have a preliminary discussion without Bid'Daum around."

Brom raised his eyebrows. "Is that right? Very well. We have a lot to talk about. Ajh, how are Keeta and the elves this morning?"

"Hanna woke up last night. Mine and Nefin's tent became the sick ward since we moved the three invalids in there last night. I made sure she had something to eat right away and she began attending to Nefin right after, but he's still unconscious. Keeta will probably come around sometime today. She was mainly exhausted and disturbed. But thanks to her, Hanna was completely unharmed. She should be able to heal all of those cuts today. Don't want them getting infected."

"That will be good," Brom approved. "Looks like she already tended to your head. I'm worried about Brin and Will's injuries, but I want to save my strength for Zadí's monument."

Ajh nodded.

Brom then said, "You were out here first. Any sign of Var this morning?"

Will raised his chin to indicate that Var was approaching the group from behind Brom. Everyone turned to watch him.

Var's eyes were bloodshot with dark circles underneath. His hair was tangled. He moved stiffly with his hands shoved in his pockets. His shirt was unlaced at the top, and Lena noticed the golden locket resting against his chest.

"You ready?" he asked Brom, not bothering with greetings.

"I want to practice first," Brom answered. "Making glass from the sand will require extremely high temperatures. I don't want to damage her body."

Var nodded brusquely and asked Ajh, "Anything ready yet, Chef? I'm starving."

Ajh quickly served a plate of biscuits and thick porridge of some sort, along with fruit Lena recognized as native to Vroengard. He wordlessly extended the food to Var, who accepted the plate, walked a short distance away, sat down, and began eating as he stared out over the ocean.

Lena scrunched her face to fight the tears and worriedly glanced up at Will. He sadly returned her gaze before looking over at Var.

"Everyone else can start too," Ajh invited. "I'll take some in for Hanna. She didn't want to leave Nefin."

"Let's plan our next move after breakfast," Will suggested as everyone started filling their plates. "We have a lot to do and time is of the essence."

The others made various signs of agreement and began eating a quiet, cheerless meal.

-:-:-:-

* * *

 **A/N:** Thank you so much for your reviews and input!


	117. Part III 18 Healer's Heartache

**18\. Healer's Heartache**

Hanna sat in the tent beside an unconscious Nefin, listening to the conversation occurring around Ajh's cook fire. While she absently examined the dull gray interior of the tent material, her sensitive elven ears perceived every small nuance. But two words stuck in her brain, halting every other thought like a jammed cogwheel in a clock.

 _Her body_.

Brom had spoken those words after Var asked if he was ready.

So _her_ body must be Zadí's body, and the two men wouldn't be talking about Zadí that way unless she was . . . dead.

Hanna shook her head. It wasn't possible. Zadí wouldn't have gone near the fighting. She would have protected her baby.

Then what did Brom and Var mean? And what did Brom need to be ready for? He had said something about heating sand hot enough to make glass. Ajh must not have shared something important when she awakened the previous night, and Hanna didn't like being so confused.

She shook her head again, intending to stand and leave the tent to find out what was going on. Nefin would be fine for a few minutes. But right then Keeta stirred and mumbled, "No . . . Nefin." Then slightly louder, "You'll _never_ touch them!"

Hanna crawled around Nefin to Keeta's side and placed a hand over her forehead. Guessing that Keeta's nightmares were very upsetting, Hanna softly said, "Keeta, wake up. It's over now."

Keeta's eyes fluttered open and fearfully darted about. "Hanna! Are you all right?"

"Yes, Keeta. The battle is over. You did it. Thank you for guarding me and Nefin."

"Nefin! Is he alive?"

"Alive, yes. But still unconscious. He's right next to you."

Keeta struggled to sit up and groaned.

"Are you hurt?" Hanna worried. "I passed out at some point during the fighting, so I've only been able to tend to Ajh's wounds."

"I don't know. I mostly just feel sore. The armor must have protected me, but some of those weapons hit me hard. I might have some bruises." She tenderly rubbed her ribs.

"Let me see," Hanna requested. Keeta stared down at Nefin's face, reaching out to finger his nearest hand. But she distractedly nodded her permission, so Hanna moved her shirt out of the way to perform an examination of her abdomen. "What happened to your hair?"

"My hair?" Keeta repeated, lifting a hand to feel it. "I don't . . . oh wait. Someone cut off my braid. Right before I beheaded him." She shuddered and cringed away from Hanna's gentle touch. "It hurts there. How did we get clean? I remember being soaked in blood."

"Last night when I woke up, Ajh said something about Brin and Lena washing us since we were still unconscious. I didn't have as much as you, and Nefin was also cleaner than most of you, since he did his duty from afar. What you did to defend us was amazing, Keeta."

"That's one way to view it. But I'm still trying to forget how many people I savagely maimed and killed."

"I'd never seen a dwarf _really_ fight before. But I had heard stories. You were unbelievable."

"Please don't say anymore," Keeta whispered. "Will he recover? He looks so pale, but he was so tan from that week of rowing."

Hanna realized that Keeta's eyes had never left Nefin's face. "Yes, he'll recover. Blödhgarm's antidote counteracted the poison, but he'll need another day or so to get it out of his system. Would you like me to trim your hair so it's even?"

"Sure," Keeta apathetically granted. Having finished treating the bruises on Keeta's torso, Hanna's raised her hands and changed her song to accomplish this new task. While she did, Keeta asked, "So what's going on out there? Everyone else all right?"

"I'm not sure," Hanna began, collecting all of the loose hairs together as she evened it out so they wouldn't drift down onto Nefin. "A few minutes ago I heard Ajh say he would bring in some food. Var and Brom were talking about something I didn't understand. And I haven't heard Zadí at all."

Keeta finally glanced away from Nefin, perhaps hearing the anxiety in Hanna's voice. "You don't think—"

"Ajh is coming," Hanna interrupted. "Let's just ask him."

Moments later Ajh ducked into the tent carrying a plate of food. "Hey, Keeta. Glad to see you awake. Do you want some breakfast too?"

Keeta shook her head. "No appetite."

Hanna noticed the shallow furrow on Ajh's forehead, which only appeared when he was deeply troubled by something and trying to control it. If there was bad news, she didn't want to unnecessarily postpone the sharing of it.

"Ajh, what happened yesterday? What were Brom and Var talking about earlier when they said, 'Her body,' and mentioned making glass?"

The furrow deepened as Ajh knelt inside the tent door and set the plate down. He gripped both of his thighs and stared at his hands. "Zadí died yesterday," he finally managed in a broken voice. "Brom is going to somehow preserve her body to take back with us. He thought about trying to encase it in glass."

An involuntary "Oh!" escaped Hanna's lips without her permission. Then she gasped, "Oh no! How?"

"Stabbed by a knife. She sacrificed herself to save Brom."

"I can heal stab wounds!" Hanna cried. "Where is she?"

"Hanna," Ajh gently denied. "She's gone. It's too late."

"But—"

"No, sugar," Ajh reiterated. "But they do need to talk for a minute before the couples go off on some errands."

"What about Nefin?" Keeta asked.

"We'll have to fill him in when he wakes up. If you two aren't hungry, we ought to go out now."

Hanna was frozen in place, but her mind whirred as she tried to come up with a solution. Zadí couldn't be dead. Zadí was her best friend. She had to think of a way to fix this, heal this—

"Hanna, do you want to come or stay with Nefin?" Ajh questioned, disturbing her dazed stupor.

"I'll come," she faintly replied, unsteadily rising to her feet. Keeta arose beside her, and they both followed Ajh out of the tent.

As they approached the cook fire, Brin hopped up and met Keeta.

"How are you doing this morning, Keeta? I like your hair." Brin squatted down to give Keeta a hug, but Hanna peeked toward Var and felt a nervous jolt that he returned her peep with a stare that she could only interpret as accusatory.

Keeta took a deep breath and absently ran a hand through her short hair, pursing her lips in annoyance when she reached the ends just below her ear. "Hanna fixed it. The ends were jagged since it was chopped off while in a braid. But anyway, waking up was better than the nightmares, though I guess they aren't completely over." She glanced at Var. "I can't believe it. Ajh just told us about . . . what happened. Oh, thanks for washing me up, by the way. One of my nightmares was bathing in a pool of blood with a bunch of mutant heads floating in it."

Brin reached out to steady Keeta as she swayed. "I'm so sorry, sweetie," she consoled. "I know exactly what you mean."

"Well," Keeta resolutely continued, "Ajh said we're having some sort of discussion that couldn't wait until Nefin wakes up."

"That's right," Brom verified. "We can't wait at all. The sooner we can leave Vroengard, the better. But we have things to discuss before even that. The first item of business is preserving Zadí's body so we can bring her with us."

Var stood and returned to the group with his empty plate. He set it on the pile of dirty dishes, now purposefully avoiding eye contact with Hanna, who sorrowfully studied him.

"Var, I'm sorry I couldn't help her," Hanna whispered with tears in her eyes. "I might have been able to heal her if . . ." She quietly sobbed before tremulously finishing, "Zadí was my best friend. I'm so s—"

"Don't say you're _so_ sorry," Var snapped, continuing to stare off into the distance. "Everyone has. Zadí. Brin. Will. Brom. It won't change anything. It doesn't make me feel better. I'm sick of hearing it."

Hanna felt like Var had punched her in the stomach. She crossed her arms over her abdomen and bowed her head as her grief and shock—intensified by Var's gruffness—overwhelmed her. Hot tears flowed down her cheeks and dripped onto the sand. Her throat convulsed as she swallowed hard.

Apparently trying to draw attention away from Hanna's devastation, Brom went on, "I'm not positive how to do what I'm planning on doing. Lena, did Tenga keep any magical books here?"

Lena lifted her gaze from her tightly clasped hands and sniffed. "Yes. In his study he had quite a sizable library."

"He might have the book I need. I think I remember reading something about making glass, but I didn't study it in depth. There are certain steps I need to be sure of." Brom apologetically glanced at Var. "Sorry, Var. I'll need to do that first."

Var shrugged and turned toward his tent. "You know where I'll be when you're ready. Thanks for the food, Ajh." Then he walked away.

Once Var disappeared, Hanna said, "Brom, don't you think we could bring Zadí back? If Bid'Daum would help—"

"Bid'Daum won't help," Lena interrupted.

At the same time, Brom said, "Zadí specifically asked—oh sorry, Lena. What were you saying?"

"No, you go ahead," Lena insisted.

Brom kept his eyes on Lena with a questioning look in them as he slowly finished, "Before she died, Zadí requested that I not attempt to bring her back. She probably knew someone would suggest it. I know it's possible—such a miracle saved my life right after I was born—but I don't know how. Restoring a person's spirit is not a magical endeavor, from what I know of it. Zadí didn't want to exist as a reanimated corpse, especially since . . . her baby had died." Brom exhaled roughly and brushed his eyes. "Now, what were you saying about Bid'Daum?"

Lena looked over at Will, who nodded and answered for her, "Bid'Daum has only assisted anyone according to an agreement he made with Lena. I'm not going to speak about it openly with everyone in case the dragon decides to start probing minds, but let's just say that he's not interested in helping out of the goodness of his heart. His aid during Tenga's tempest was a fulfillment of that bargain, nothing more."

Ajh seemed to notice how crushed Hanna was, for he sidled up next to her and reassuringly squeezed her hand. She paid little attention to what was going on around her as she scrutinized each particle of sand within her line of vision, wondering that something so small and simple could seem beautiful at all, and especially at a time like this. But she was distantly aware that it was silent for a few moments.

Finally Brom continued, "Well, since fulfilling Zadí's request is the most pressing matter, perhaps Brin and I should leave right away. Will and Lena, you two go after the Caretakers. I located their energy earlier this morning. They are alive and very hungry. Will, your sword would sever their restraints. The four of us will head off together now."

"What should we do here?" Ajh asked.

"Rest. Gather food. Tend to Nefin," Brom suggested.

Since learning of Zadí's death, Hanna had experienced the unusual and alarming feeling of being smaller and more worthless by the minute, and her examination of the sand had only reinforced this sentiment. In desperation she blurted out the urge that had been building in her at the same rate: "Brom, I want to talk to my parents. May I scry them?"

Brom regarded her in surprise at her urgent manner before answering, "Of course. That's actually a really good idea. We should find out how they're doing and report on our status."

"Before you go, let me heal Brin and Will," Hanna pleaded, walking over to Brin. She magically created a slit in Brin's pants large enough to permit the unwrapping of the bandage around her thigh. Though she tried to steady them, her voice wavered while she sang and her hands trembled. Hanna felt a measure of relief when the ugly gash disappeared at her invitation, replaced by smooth skin. Then she finished the job by mending Brin's leggings.

"Thank you, Hanna," Brin softly said when she was done, reaching out to grasp Hanna's sweaty hand. "Hiking through the mountains will be so much easier now. And please don't feel responsible for Zadí's death. She didn't want that. Brom and I have been over this. You were performing your role perfectly. This was Zadí's role. She was brave enough to accept it and save all of our lives by protecting Brom."

"Yes, thank you, Hanna," Will echoed, resting one hand on her shoulder after she had repeated the service of healing his injured leg. "You also saved lives yesterday. Var knows that, but he's hurting too much right now to think about anyone else's pain."

Hanna bit her lip and looked down again. "Brom, if there's any way I can help while you . . . preserve Zadí, I want to do it. Earlier I heard you say you were worried about damaging her body. Maybe I could protect her from the heat while you make the glass."

Brom performed another comforting gesture by laying one hand on her arm. "That would be really helpful, Hanna. Thank you. No one blames you for not being available to heal Zadí. Don't torture yourself with 'what if's.'"

Hanna couldn't meet his gaze. His eyes were exactly like Zadí's. So with her eyes down she mumbled, "When I scry our parents, do you want me to tell them what happened?"

"If it feels natural," Brom said. "But I will if you don't."

Hanna nodded her understanding as she fought to maintain her composure. "I'm going back to Nefin," she finally whispered, feeling the weight of their pitying stares on her back as she escaped into the tent.

-:-:-:-


	118. Part III 19 Chef's Consolation

**19\. Chef's Consolation**

Ajh watched until Hanna disappeared, then he called after the two couples trudging away down the beach toward the nearest canyon: "See you when you get back. I'll have lunch ready in a few hours. Bring as much food as you can."

Brom waved his acknowledgment without turning, so Ajh also observed them until they were out of sight. Then he drew in a slow breath and looked down at Keeta. "Do you think she's had enough time yet?"

"Probably not, but we shouldn't leave her alone for long. She can hear us out here."

Ajh acknowledged Keeta with a dip of his head, and together they walked toward the sick ward. "Hanna," he softly said when they stopped by the door flap. "Can we come back in?"

A muffled "yes" reached their ears, but Ajh forced himself to count to ten before entering, considerate of the possibility that Hanna might want a moment to compose herself. He then pulled the flap aside and motioned for Keeta to go ahead.

By the time Ajh was inside and seated, Hanna had already begun fretting over Keeta, asking if she had any other aches or might now have an appetite and holding up a mirror to make sure she liked her hair.

Keeta patiently confirmed that she was happy with her hair cut and had no other perceivable aches or needs. So Hanna moved on to Ajh.

"What about you, Ajh? I only had a chance to heal your most serious cut last night, but surely you have other wounds needing attention."

"I'm fine, sugar."

"Let me just check," Hanna entreated. "I'll feel a lot better if I can ascertain with my eyes."

"What do you need me to do?"

Hanna blushed and awkwardly said, "I need to . . . can you . . . ? Will you just remove your shirt so I can quickly examine your torso? Keeta had some nasty bruises. You might too."

Ajh knew why Hanna was acting this way and that he shouldn't be amused, but he couldn't keep a faint grin from his face as he pulled off his shirt. "I might, but even _you_ —with your elven eyes—will have a hard time seeing them on my skin, sugar. I guess you'll just have to use your hands too. To ascertain that I'm all right, that is."

As hoped, his quip coaxed the teeniest smile to Hanna's lips. Ajh loved that timid smile. But she did her best to remain business-like as she scooted closer and raised a trembling hand to his shoulder. "Tell me if it hurts anywhere," she instructed.

Ajh nodded and followed the movement of her hand with his eyes—down his arm, back up to his shoulder, now down his chest, along his abdomen. Her skin was so fair, and it seemed even more so next to his black skin.

Ajh couldn't help that goosebumps covered his flesh in response to Hanna's feathery touch. Sure she would notice, he glanced up at her face and studied her eyes—eyes that were so much like his in color and slanted shape, though their skin was so different.

"Does it hurt anywhere?" Hanna whispered, avoiding eye contact with him.

"No, sugar. Tickles a little, but that's all."

Tears filled those lovely eyes and clung to dark lashes as she lowered them. Crystal drops trailed down her perfect cheeks and fell—as if in slow motion—down to her lap. "Please, Ajh. Give me a way to help. Anything."

"I still have a pile of dirty dishes out there," he offered in pretended seriousness.

Hanna nodded and started to rise, but Ajh caught her hand. "I'm only kidding, Hanna."

When she continued to stare down, Ajh raised one hand to her cheek and brushed away her tears. "Look at me, sugar," he softly requested, and she did.

Ajh's heart ached. Was she even more exquisite when suffering? "Hanna. You're so beautiful, and you're so amazing. You did exactly what you were supposed to do yesterday and saved me, Keeta, Var, and Will. It wasn't your fault that Zadí died."

Hanna swallowed, clenched her jaw, wrinkled her forehead, flared her nostrils, but ultimately lost the struggle to suppress her tears, which flowed more forcefully from her eyes. "I c . . . can't help feeling that way, Ajh," she gasped. "I c . . . could have healed her. V . . . var hates me."

"No. No way. No one hates you—"

"And what if I'm never able to say goodbye?" Hanna rushed on. "I f . . . feel so guilty around Var, but I want to see my best friend one last time b . . . before—well, I guess we're not exactly going to bury her. But—"

Ajh slid his thumb over and covered her lips. "Come here, sugar," he invited, gently pulling Hanna into his arms. "You once saw me like this and comforted me. Let me return the favor. It's all right to cry. Letting yourself grieve is the first step to healing. Isn't that what you said?"

Hanna mutely nodded against his chest, unable to speak through her sobs. Ajh tightly hugged her and glanced over at Keeta, whose eyes were downcast and also full of tears.

Once Hanna's weeping calmed somewhat, Ajh quietly said, "I'm so sad Zadí died and I know that's the most important thing right now, but I also can't help feeling slightly grateful. We ran in there outnumbered twenty to one. Not very good odds. It's a miracle the rest of us survived and only thanks to you, if you remember. Not only that, but we found Lena and defeated Tenga. Now, I know how keen you were to scry your parents. I say we should do that to see if they ever made it back and find out how they and the little ones are doing. And before we preserve Zadí's body, I'll make sure you get a moment alone with her. How's that sound, sugar?" He softly drawled the last in his "Chef-speech," knowing Hanna found it charming.

Hanna lifted her face and wiped it with both hands. "Sorry I cried all over you."

"At least you made me take off my shirt first," Ajh dismissed, a smile tugging at his mouth.

She smiled too, slightly larger than the first time. "Thanks for trying to cheer me up, Ajh. No one does it better. And I like your plan. If you'll do that for me, I'll even help you with those dishes."

"Deal." Ajh gave her a brighter grin.

Hanna tentatively reached out and grasped one of his hands in both of hers. With a blush on her cheeks and without looking up, she shyly whispered, "Thank you for being such a good friend, Ajh. I love you."

Ajh blinked, slightly taken aback by Hanna's unexpected confession. He wasn't sure if her words were _the_ "I love you," or just, "I love you as a friend," but he knew he needed to respond _somehow_. So he shifted their hands until he could bring one of Hanna's to his lips and lightly kissed the back of it. "I'm honored, Hanna. Thank you. Our friendship means the world to me."

As he lowered their hands, Hanna took a deep breath and let it out again. Then she shrugged her shoulders and relaxed them. "Shall we scry home?"

"Absolutely," Ajh replied. "And perhaps I ought to put my shirt on again in case your father happens to be present. Wouldn't want any raised eyebrows or scandalous gossip on our account."

A short exhalation through her nose was the closest Hanna could get to laughing right then, and she pursed her lips to inhibit her smile. But as Ajh donned his shirt, her eyes briefly darted to his torso then away again just as quickly, and he wondered what was going through her mind.

"Now then. Do we have a mirror? Or should we go use my wash basin?"

"Here's one," Keeta proffered, extending Hanna's mirror over Nefin's body. "It's larger than any of the Riders' pocket-sized mirrors."

Clearly flustered, Hanna snatched the looking-glass and mumbled, "Thank you, Keeta. No reason to wait. I guess I'll just try to contact my father. He's the one I miss the most right now." And without further ado, she performed the spell that would summon her father's image in the mirror.

-:-:-:-

* * *

 **A/N:** There you have it, dear readers. There will obviously be more grieving for Zadí, but we'll have a little update about what's happening on the Isle next time. Several of you have asked and someone also wondered about Hanin (Hanna's dad), so we'll get a glimpse into his thoughts for a minute. Ta ta! ~A


	119. Part III 20 Hanin's Hope

**20\. Hanin's Hope**

Noise filled the Great Hall on the Isle of the Eldunarí, but only of the most cheerful variety. Hanin enjoyed the symphony of playing children, high-toned laughter, small feet pattering about on the stone floor, happy cries, and the many other sounds one would expect in a room full of youngsters. Hanin's daughter Nina was among the older children present, assisting him in watching over the rambunctious group.

Hanin was the only adult in the Great Hall right then, though several additional youth kept Nina company in her duty of tending the smaller ones. The other adult inhabitants of the Isle were holding a conference with Alagaësia's main leaders to learn what they could of conditions on the mainland and determine what, if anything, they could do to assist from afar.

Hanin's wife Maehrí and the other younger elven Riders were responsible for facilitating the meeting by scrying Lord Däthedr in Ellesméra, Nar Garzhvog in the Bolvek village, and King Orik in Tronjheim. With assistance from Eldunarí resting in the Cave—wherein the gathering was being held—they took turns sustaining the simple magic so no one would get overly exhausted.

Nina and Hanin's middle son had offered to participate, but the adults felt the discussion would be potentially troubling. And though Varhog had volunteered to carry Hanin to the assembly, he had declined, for he secretly preferred the chance to simply sit and enjoy his little ones.

A smile spread across Hanin's face when Nina's voice rose above the other joyous melodies as she explained the rules for a game the children were preparing to play. His smile broadened as the healthy five-month-old baby on his lap reached up and grabbed his chin with a wet hand, sputtering an enthusiastic greeting as he gazed at his father with a huge grin and pale blue eyes that somehow still seemed wide in a way only baby eyes could despite their slanting shape.

"Hello, little fellow!" Hanin replied in a sing-song falsetto, waggling his chin and gently nibbling the slippery fingers. "Aren't you so handsome? And so slobbery! You drool so much, my boy. Perhaps taking after your father in his senility. Most people seeing us together would probably expect me to be your great-grandfather, wouldn't they?" Using the cloth over his shoulder intended for this very purpose, he mopped some of the saliva off the baby's hands and face.

"Dada, what's 'si- _neel_ -i-tee'?" asked four-year-old Meri, perched on Hanin's other leg. His two youngest children reminded him so much of his two eldest children, for baby Hanin had Nefin's precise coloring, while Meri looked like a miniature Hanna. The middle two children had different combinations of their parents' features, but those four closely resembled one another.

As he often did, Hanin thought about Nefin and Hanna and wondered if they were well. He and the other adults were reluctant to try contacting them, in case their journey had led them into danger's path. They were desperate to know how the young adults fared and at the same time loath to risk distracting them in any way.

Though Hanin knew his oldest children and their closest friends were extremely capable in every conceivable situation, he still worried about their well-being and missed them. He fervently hoped that the long silence from the nine adolescents who had set out in search of Lena did not signify anything foreboding.

"Well," Meri prompted, "what does it mean, dada? 'Suh-nell-u-tee.'"

Hanin chuckled. She had forgotten the correct pronunciation during his musings, so he then answered, "Senility means the condition of mental and physical deterioration associated with old age. And I am an old man, my dear."

"Not as old as most of the elves here," Meri disagreed. "And your mind isn't old." Then while stretching up and patting his white hair, she proudly added, "But you _are_ the only elf with all white hair."

"Yes, I'm quite proud of that too, which is why I won't allow the Eldunarí to restore my original hair color. I always did wonder why elves have only black or silver hair, and black is much less interesting of the two. I can be unique in this respect. Now, would you like to join the other children in their game?"

"Will you stay here?" Meri anxiously wondered.

"Right here," Hanin promised, feeling a pang that she still worried her parents might disappear for another immeasurable—at least for a young child—span of time. Though Hanin and the other adult Dragon Riders had now been back on the Isle for about three and a half months, Meri wasn't the only three or four-year-old who still possessively clung to her parents nearly around the clock.

As if to prove that notion, Hanin glanced toward the Great Hall's main entrance when a heavier footfall reached his ears and observed Murtagh entering the room with three-year-old Tage in his arms. Hanin absently slid his hand farther down his leg to scratch an itch and rolled his eyes when his fingers met with thin air.

"I suppose it will take longer than four months for me to get used to missing one leg," he commented to Murtagh as his friend sat in a neighboring chair.

"Having phantom pains?" Murtagh sympathetically responded.

"Yes, or maybe phantom itches would be more accurate."

Murtagh grinned. "I admire that you've remained so positive about the accident."

"It's the perfect excuse to always sit around and watch the little ones," Hanin rejoined. "You lot still have to at least pretend to stay busy."

"There's nothing imaginary about it," Murtagh ironically stated. "Though our dragons are gone, it's just as much work as ever to maintain our self-sufficient lifestyle. Or maybe it only seems like extra work because I was often spoiled living in the royal palace in Ilirea."

Hanin smiled and faced the baby toward his shoulder. The little munchkin immediately leaned forward to engulf his fist with his mouth and continued slobbering away, babbling in the most endearing manner. "How did the meeting go? Or did you sneak out?"

"I'm like you in that regard, I suppose," Murtagh confessed with a guilty laugh. "I was glad to take Tage in there with me because I knew he'd quickly lose interest and I'd have an excuse to escape. But before then, they seemed to be making progress. From what they could tell, the three leaders thought the Shade has been missing for over a month. So someone must have faced her. But they aren't sure who, and they also don't know if she is dead or just temporarily disembodied. I once shot a Shade—Durza, actually—and he came back more vicious than ever. Däthedr didn't think sending the elves out would be very helpful. There are comparatively so few young elves and while they are willing, the older members of the race are protective of the younger generation, especially since so many are now dying and the younger ones cannot rely as heavily on magic. The dwarves, on the other hand, are willing and able to send many warriors. Their longevity was never dependent on a magical pact. And the Urgals were eager to be of help. When I left, they had begun making arrangements for young Gerik—do you remember him?"

Hanin nodded. "Yes. Friend of Keeta's, right? Newest dwarven Rider. Seems like I recall that Nefin was slightly jealous of him by the end of their time in Ellesméra last year. At least, that's what I deduced from the little Nefin shared with me."

Murtagh gave him an understanding smile. "I know what you mean. As _I_ recall, Ajh seemed to be quite taken with a certain elven lass we know. But anyway, Gerik will be leading a band of dwarven warriors from the south, while some of Garzhvog's grandsons will be doing the same from the north. Eragon suggested contacting Roran, and our cousin was also willing to send a force to Ilirea, but the dwarves and Urgals are more prepared for immediate combat, should it come to that. Both groups will head toward the capitol, assisting people as they can along the way. But it's hard to plan specifics when there are so many unknowns, such as if, when, and where the Shade will return. It would also be helpful to know where our oldest children are and what they've been facing."

"I was only just thinking of them," Hanin said. "It has been months since anyone here spoke with them. I worry—"

Baby Hanin tightly grasped his ear and jabbered some gibberish right into it. But it no longer sounded happy, and Hanin knew his son was hungry. "Were they close to finishing when you left? Or was Maehrí available? This little fellow needs his mother."

"Maehrí had her turn first for that very reason. As I was leaving, she mentally requested that you have one of your children notify her in the same manner whenever the baby needed to nurse."

"Perfect. I'll have Meri do it. She loves practicing, and it's so easy for her. Elven magic is strongest in our children." Hanin called for Meri, and she pranced back to him.

"Yes, dada?"

"Would you use your mind to call mother, my dear? Baby Hanin needs to eat."

Meri clasped her hands in delight at being entrusted with the task and closed her eyes as she concentrated. Seconds later she reopened them and declared, "All done, dada! Mama is coming!"

"Thank you, Meri. Off you go again." She twirled in a circle before frolicking away.

"The way she loves to dance reminds me so much of Zadí when she was a little girl," Murtagh commented. "You elves are just born graceful."

"I suppose so. I'm glad we elves are also being born more frequently, now that so many are dying just as gracefully. Did anyone at the assembly ask Lord Däthedr about Rhunön?"

Tage had drifted to sleep, so Murtagh shifted him slightly until the child's head rested against his chest. Hanin's charge was increasingly restless and unhappy, and the baby now repeatedly attempted to dive out of his arms. "She'll be here soon," he comforted as he once again resituated his son in an upright position.

Murtagh then answered, "Yes, right at the beginning Varhog actually asked for Willow's sake. Varhog only stayed for a few moments. You know how much help Willow needs with the triplets, even with her twin daughters' constant assistance."

Hanin dipped his head in assent. Willow and Varhog were always exhausted these days. He had no clue how they managed to maintain their sanity. He had always considered his elven ability of needing very little sleep a blessed boon whenever he and Maehrí had a newborn, but they had never had two at once, like Willow and Varhog, let alone three! "Yes, Varhog came through not long ago on his way back to their quarters."

Murtagh went on, "Däthedr said Rhunön is holding on, though she is one of the oldest elves. As soon as they were aware of the aging dilemma, they immediately sought out Rhunön and forbade her from using magic of any sort. But she is constantly confined to bed and hates every minute of it. Though Däthedr didn't explicitly say this, I got the feeling that Rhunön was waiting for something specific before passing on."

"How interesting. I wonder what. Do you have any guesses?"

Murtagh began to answer, but right then Maehrí swept into the hall with her waist-length silver tresses shimmering as if they had trapped all of the sunlight. Murtagh's words blurred into an unintelligible drone as Hanin's wife captured his undivided attention.

He knew by the state of Maehrí's hair—blown away from her face and cascading down her back in tangled waves—and by how quickly she had arrived that she had run the entire distance from the Cave back to the Great Hall, and that was only the first thing Hanin admired. He was glad she slowed to walk so he would have time to appreciate the many other things, such as her tall and slender figure. Maehrí seemed stately as a queen as she glided across the floor.

Hanin remembered first seeing her face as if it had happened yesterday. Many elves were uncommonly beautiful, but Maehrí's countenance had captivated him above any other those twenty years earlier. And now, after almost two decades of marriage and six children together, she had somehow become more stunning to him than he would have imagined possible. Her eyes glittered like pale sapphires above high, defined cheek bones. And her lips—full and red—turned up in a glorious smile, all for him.

Then she was close enough for Hanin to bask in her appealing scent. He knew most of the female inhabitants of the Isle used soaps and shampoos that smelled similar, but somehow the intoxicating fragrance containing notes of rose, lilac, lavender, and jasmine was most enticing when coming from his own wife. And Hanin discerned the wind in her hair, tinged with traces of vibrant greenery. He dearly missed the familiar aromas of his beloved forest, which he couldn't fully enjoy as he once had without use of both legs.

Moments like this made Hanin resent his handicap more than at any other time. He wished he could smoothly rise to meet his gorgeous wife, could glide just as elegantly toward her, could be the strong and able-bodied man she had fallen in love with. But now he looked the part of her grandfather as much as he appeared to be his son's great-grandfather, complete with a crutch for walking.

"Stop it," Maehrí chided as she knelt in front of his chair. "I know what you're thinking and it's nonsense. I love you more than I did when your hair was black, your skin smooth, and your leg whole because you became this way being a hero for someone besides me. And you are just as handsome as an old man as you ever were when you looked only twenty." She leaned forward to kiss his cheek and took the baby. "Thank you for watching him. Sorry he got fussy. I came as quickly as I could."

"Ahem." Hanin cleared his throat in an effort to control his reaction to her words. The reassurance of her love sometimes made him emotional, and today that had manifested as tears in his eyes. These he blinked away as he said, "You came plenty quickly enough, Maehrí. And you are lovelier than ever."

She smiled again as she sat on his other side and began feeding baby Hanin. "Murtagh, you left right before discussion of a very interesting and concerning development. I would have followed you out within a few minutes if not for this."

"Interesting and concerning?" Murtagh repeated. "I might have stayed. Won't you enlighten us?"

Maehrí's face grew more serious. "Nar Garzhvog reported that two Lethrblaka have transformed and are terrorizing the land along with two younger Ra'zac."

Murtagh raised his eyebrows, and Hanin felt a similar expression wrinkle his face. "Is that right?"

"Yes, but they never stay in one place long enough for anyone to rally and fight. They only kidnap a few people—to eat, presumably—and leave just as quickly. Since they are still so young, Garzhvog felt that a band of Kull warriors would have a decent chance defeating them. But even then they have a distinct advantage because they can fly, and no one else feels confident enough without using magic."

"That _is_ concerning," Hanin seriously granted. "How I wish we could know where our oldest children are."

As Maehrí nodded her fervent agreement, Hanin heard a young female voice call, "Father?"

He glanced toward the swarm of playing children and didn't notice Nina looking his way. Meri still called him dada, so he questioningly regarded Murtagh, who was performing a similar evaluation of his daughters.

"Father, it's Hanna. Can you hear me?"

Understanding dawned on him, and Hanin scrambled to pull the mirror from his pocket. Though he and the other former Riders didn't use them with nearly the same frequency as before their ancient order was destroyed, they still carried the mirrors just in case Brom, Nefin, or Hanna tried to scry them, as was happening right then.

"Hanna!" he exclaimed, tears of gratitude filling his eyes when her precious face was visible in front of him. "I literally just wished we could hear from you. How are you and your friends doing?"

"Father, is that you?" Hanna asked in confusion.

"Yes, my dear. I suppose I didn't look this way when last you saw me. Has it been almost a year? No, only nine months. But here's mother and the new baby." Hanin tilted the mirror so Maehrí would be able to see their oldest daughter, but he also maintained his view.

"Hello, mother," Hanna greeted with an aching sadness so palpable Hanin could feel it. "Baby Hanin is so darling. He looks just like Nefin."

Maehrí longingly reached toward Hanna and whispered, "I wish I could wrap my arms around you right now, sweetheart."

"I know what you mean," Hanna mumbled as tears likewise filled her eyes. By her appearance, Hanin knew Hanna had also been crying not long before scrying them.

"What is it, my dear?" he asked in concern. "Is something wrong? Is Nefin well? Are any of your friends there with you?"

Hanna took a deep breath and lowered her eyes. "Ajh and Keeta are here. Nefin is too, but he's unconscious—"

"Why!" Maehrí cried. "What happened? Where are you? Are you in trouble?"

"We're on Vroengard."

Hanin inhaled sharply. _Vroengard?_

"We're protected from the poisonous environment," Hanna continued. "This is where Tenga brought Lena. We found her and she's fine, but we faced Tenga and his followers yesterday—"

"Wait," Murtagh interjected, listening raptly to Hanna's every word. Hanin had noticed his relief on hearing that Lena was well, but in spite of his obvious desire to hear more, Murtagh still recommended, "Don't you think we should see if any of the others might want to join us to hear Hanna's account?"

"Is that my father?" sounded Ajh's voice from near Hanna, and she handed the mirror to him while Hanin turned his toward Murtagh.

"Ajh," breathed Murtagh in a strained voice, also now fighting tears like the rest of them. "I'm glad to see you, son."

Ajh nodded. "And there's little Tagey. I'll bet he was thrilled to see you again." He smiled faintly as he went on, "We have so much to share, father, but I think you're right to suggest gathering the others. Especially Uncle Eragon and Aunt Arya."

Murtagh's face twisted in curiosity and concern, but he again resisted the urge Hanin felt to ask for more clarification right then.

"I'll call for the others with my mind," Maehrí volunteered.

"And I'll drag the larger mirror closer so we can transfer the spell and see all of you," Murtagh offered, immediately standing to fulfill this duty.

As he and Maehrí performed their jobs, Hanna asked, "Father, what happened to you?"

Hanin summarized his accident and what led up to it as they waited for the other parents to join them.

"A shark!" Hanna disbelievingly declared when he had finished. "And none of the elves have been able to restore your leg? Blödhgarm knows how. He taught me."

"Yes, but we worry about the consequences of an intense magical effort like that," Hanin said. "Even with assistance from the Eldunarí, the initial effort and energy must come from the healer. And all of the most skilled elven healers on the Isle are over two hundred years old. We don't want to take any unnecessary risks. Nina has been learn—"

"Wait until I get home!" Hanna implored. "Please, father. I want to heal your leg. Then I won't feel so worthless."

"What do you mean 'worthless'?" Maehrí wondered.

"I can't talk about it," Hanna confessed in a wavering voice. "Ajh might need to be the one who relates our experiences since we left." Hanin noticed more tears leaking from his daughter's eyes and that Ajh gently stroked her hand while he held it.

"Are my sons there?" Varhog's deep voice was enough to tear Hanin's gaze away from Hanna and Ajh. Varhog had entered the Great Hall carrying Willow and one of their three-week-old triplets, while their twin daughters Monrow and Willow followed, holding the other tiny babies.

"Oh, the babies!" Hanna cried, seeming to momentarily forget her distress. "Are they healthy?"

For a second everyone—Grintuk and Breetuk had made it back from the meeting more swiftly than the others—looked around, apparently unsure who should answer. Finally, Willow said, "Yes, Hanna. They are better than we could have possibly hoped. My pregnancy was very difficult, and we worried they might be born too early to survive. But with assistance from your younger sisters, the babies remained inside until thirty-six weeks of gestation. They're only a few weeks old now. As soon as we knew you had scryed, we hoped to introduce them to their oldest brothers. Are Will and Var there with you?"

"Not right here," Hanna shortly responded before asking, "Are they sons or daughters?"

"One daughter and two sons," Willow replied with a weary smile, though Hanin picked up on her mild surprise that Hanna brushed off her query about Will and Var.

Willow continued, "The boys aren't identical, and they seemed to know just the numbers we would need to make an equal six boys and six girls. An even dozen. And that is all the children we will have. Bleeding complications during the birth necessitated the removal of my womb, which your mother helped with. Thanks to your whole family, these babies and I are alive right now."

"I'm so sorry," Hanna comforted. "But I'm grateful my family could help."

"No need for apologies," Willow reassured. "I'm thankful too. And I'm actually somewhat relieved that these are my last three babies. Varhog and I had twins figured out, but it's all we can do to care for these triplets. If not for Monrow and Willow, I'm sure we'd be going crazy. And I'm excited to start welcoming grandbabies. Your mother briefly shared that you found Lena, so I'd imagine it won't be too long before I'm a grandma."

Though Willow laughed quietly, Hanin didn't miss that her comment again caused Hanna deep heartache, as her continued weeping demonstrated. After piecing together many relevant bits of information—Hanna's sadness and feeling of worthlessness, her reluctance to talk about Will and Var, and her renewed distress upon hearing Willow mention becoming a grandmother, along with Ajh's specific request for Eragon and Arya—Hanin started to fear that one of the ten youth had been killed during their confrontation with Tenga. Most likely one of Eragon and Arya's children. And since Brom would in no way be able to make Willow a grandma, Hanin guessed Zadí and Var must have married and Zadí must have somehow died.

If he was right, all of the confusing mysteries of the scrying session made complete sense. After all, Zadí and Hanna had been best friends from the time Hanna was about two years old. If her best friend had died and Hanna had been unable to prevent it, Hanin could easily understand why Hanna felt as she did. He was then more impatient than before to learn all that had happened since the nine youth left the Isle almost nine months earlier.

Maehrí must have also noticed their daughter's devastation, for she gently questioned, "Hanna, what is upsetting you, sweetheart? You haven't stopped crying since you scryed us."

Hanna beseechingly looked at Ajh, who glanced through the mirror at the growing collection of adults. Knilf and Greta had made it back to the Great Hall along with Nasuada, who made her way to Murtagh's side with their young baby in her arms. "Are Eragon and Arya there yet? I only want to say it once, and they should be the first to hear. Hello, mother."

Nasuada gave Ajh a tearful smile but made no reply, for someone else spoke first.

"The first to hear what?" asked Eragon from the hall's entrance, having perceived Ajh's statement across the distance with his elven hearing. "We left the Cave after everyone else so we could properly end the conference."

The Senior Rider and his wife walked hand-in-hand toward the group of people encircling the large enchanted scrying mirror. Though Arya had recovered from the external signs of old age with help from the Eldunarí, Eragon was ever mindful that she was over a hundred and thirty years old and always encouraged her to act accordingly. Their situation was somewhat similar to Hanin and Maehrí's in that the younger pair fretted over the older half's susceptibility to aging. Arya's reaction compared to Hanin's marked the biggest difference between the two couples. Hanin always found humor in the situation, whereas she simply found it irritating and was often impatient with her husband's doting.

Hanin hid a smile as he observed Arya roll her eyes almost imperceptibly and pull ahead of Eragon by tugging on his hand. He imagined she would have attempted to run as swiftly as Maehrí at the first news in months from their oldest children, but Eragon had undoubtedly discouraged such behavior and was now making up an excuse for their later arrival.

The gathering naturally parted as Eragon and Arya approached, and once they stopped in front of the mirror, Arya anxiously repeated, "The first to hear what, Ajh? What news do you have?"

Hanin's heart went out to Ajh, who suddenly appeared no more capable than Hanna of being the bearer of bad tidings. Ajh cleared his throat and swallowed before managing, "I hardly know how to say it. There isn't an easy way, so I'll just get it over with. Zadí was. . . . She died yesterday, Aunt Arya. I'm awfully sorry."

Arya froze in a way only an elf could. Even her breathing stopped as she became still as a statue. A hush fell over the crowd of onlookers, both young and old, but Arya's silence was more profound to Hanin, for he was able to hear that her heart also ceased beating for a moment as she attempted to process this most dreaded report. Maybe that was where the expression 'heart-broken' came from. Maybe everyone's heart literally broke down for the briefest second when they first learned that someone they loved had died.

Though he had some preparation from his perceptive speculating, Hanin also felt a sorrowful twinge, but he knew it couldn't compare to Eragon and Arya's shock. Especially Arya's. As an elf, Hanin personally understood the reverence for life and the honor to bear children common to all members of his race. He, Maehrí, and Arya were the first elves in many decades to conceive and bear children as readily as they had, and they never forgot their gratitude for that circumstance.

As elves, they also held the view that they and their offspring would enjoy relative immortality, which notion a few months had hardly reversed. To hear that one of her own children had passed on before her was surely the most inconceivable news Arya could be presented with.

"Breathe, Arya," Eragon muttered in an undertone as he clenched the edge of the table under the mirror. Of course he would have also noticed her physiological response.

"And Brom?" Arya gasped, inhaling a short breath.

"Brom is fine," Ajh replied. "Zadí died saving his life while he dueled with Tenga."

"A chair," Eragon quietly requested. "Will someone please move two chairs closer?"

Grintuk and Breetuk quickly obliged. Though her rigid posture suggested no need for it, Eragon supported Arya with an arm around her waist, but Hanin saw that _his_ legs did seem quite shaky. When the chairs were behind them, he carefully lowered Arya down then slowly took a seat himself. After clasping Arya's hand, Eragon rested his other elbow on his thigh and his chin in his hand. Hanin clearly observed a trickle of liquid rolling down one cheek from his eye into his beard. Arya remained as statuesque as before, having moved only enough to sit.

While placing a hand on his brother's shoulder, Murtagh sadly raised his eyes to Ajh's and invited, "Tell us everything, Ajh."

So Ajh began the long exchange of information between the two groups, with assistance mostly from Keeta. Hanna appeared too overwhelmed to contribute much more than the occasional sob or two.

When she learned that she had lost an unborn granddaughter along with her daughter, Arya's emotions finally expressed themselves outwardly as she bowed her head and began softly weeping. Willow also started crying at this depressing news and how the deaths were affecting her firstborn son.

Since their children were the only three present of the nine surviving youth, Murtagh, Hanin, and Knilf did most of the talking to relate their adventures on the tropical island and voyage home.

Several hours later, after both parties had asked and answered every possible question, extended every condolence, offered every encouragement, and given every warning, Hanna ended her long scrying spell with an apology that she needed to rest and a promise to scry again during Zadí's funeral. She had drained of energy the precious gemstones in the Riders' weapons near her and was exhausted in every way.

Leaning his head against the chair back, Hanin mutely stared up at the openings meant for the dragons near the ceiling of the cavernous hall and experienced an unexpected longing for Vera, his formerly bonded companion. If nothing else, she would at least perfectly comprehend what he was going through right then and would provide comfort through the presence of her mind. He missed his dragon, he missed his leg, he missed his eldest children, and he ached for the anguish of his friends. He thought he understood how Hanna felt, for he suddenly felt sapped both physically and emotionally. Most disquieting of all was that the young adults on Vroengard were still far from home with no immediate means of returning and many potential threats to face.

But the optimist inside him stubbornly thought, _They've already overcome tremendous odds. If they keep working together, they might stand a chance. Don't give up on them while they still have a chance._

As if Maehrí had heard his thoughts, she favored him with a brave smile and reached over to grasp his hand. Hanin's hopes lifted when he observed Meri snuggled once more on his lap and baby Hanin peacefully sleeping in his mother's arms. Things always seemed more hopeful when one was surrounded by loved ones, and Hanna and Nefin were surrounded by their closest friends.

 _They will return,_ Maehrí firmly thought. _We must believe that._

 _Yes, we will believe in them_ , Hanin agreed, returning her smile as he gently stroked his young daughter's hair.

-:-:-:-


	120. Part III 21 Coping

**21\. Coping**

Back on Vroengard, the two couples heading inland hadn't even reached the trees before Will scooped Lena up to carry her. She gave him a grateful smile. "Thank you, love. I suppose it will take longer than two days for me to recover from a week of fasting." In response, Will kissed the top of her head.

Brom thoughtfully observed them without really focusing on their interaction. Before they had left the camp, he deduced that Lena hadn't directly answered his question about Bid'Daum because she couldn't. But he also realized it was vital for him to know exactly what Will meant about Lena and the dragon's agreement.

Will glanced over at Brom. "We far enough yet?"

"Yes," Brom said, stopping in front of some large boulders at the mouth of the canyon. "Let's sit here while we discuss this. It might take us awhile. And don't worry about Brin hearing. I know you were mainly withholding information because of Hanna. Urgals don't generally feel the same worshipful reverence toward dragons. Besides, I could hide mine and Brin's awareness from Bid'Daum if he actually does start probing minds."

"Which is doubtful," Lena said, settling herself more comfortably on Will's lap as he sat on one of the rocks across from Brom and Brin. "He's arrogant and apathetic. His Rider died so long ago that he hasn't felt devotion for another living creature in centuries. And he cares nothing about his own existence, as Will is going to share. What I'm getting at is that he will most likely rely on the fact that I swore an oath in the ancient language and won't expect Will to have guessed about our agreement." She sheepishly looked up at Will. "Sorry, love."

"Not at all," Will dismissed before revealing everything he knew. Lena contributed where she could, filling Brom in on the relevant information she had learned during her captivity on Vroengard.

When they finished a while later, Brom remarked, "You discovered a lot that will no doubt be helpful as we start back for home and restore the pact. And your account of Bid'Daum's indifference matches my own observations when he helped us escape Tenga's storm. He seemed to be acting from a place of detached self-interest. If only I had known I could borrow his vitality anytime Tenga did, I might have thwarted the old wizard right from the moment he arrived on the Isle and implemented his plan. But never mind about that. So what do you suggest we do, Lena?"

"Leave Bid'Daum alone as much as possible until we get back to the Isle," she replied.

"Do we have to wait until then?" Brin asked. "Do you think we could reinstate the Dragon Rider pact right now? We have the Caretakers—or we will after you two go get them—and Bid'Daum, which were central elements in Tenga's plot to nullify the treaty."

"I honestly don't know what that will require," Lena confessed. "Tenga might have some notes about it. He kept detailed journals, which would probably be very valuable contributions to the Riders' library. But I think we would need to be in the presence of the other Eldunarí in order to protect them. And that spell might require the magic of the dragons, which means the pact will already have to be restored. I'm worried that if we try it now, Bid'Daum will insist that I fulfill my vow before we can get back to the Isle."

"Before we speculate anymore," Will proposed, "let's see if Brom can learn anything from Tenga's records. But we're not going back there, are we, honey? You and I get to do some more rescuing while Brom and Brin return to the battle scene. Tell them what they need to know before we part ways."

Lena explained where Tenga's study and the food storage rooms were and Brom directed Will where to travel to find the Caretakers, then they split up to fulfill their individual objectives.

Brom and Brin continued on into the canyon, remaining mostly silent as they listened to the sounds of jungle. At least, Brom _tried_ to pay attention to his environment, but unwelcome memories stubbornly intruded on his thoughts.

A gurgling brook bubbled by with carefree cheer. Then Zadí's words pierced through his focus.

 _No! You won't kill my brother!_

Deep, erratic booms resonated through the trees. Angler frogs.

 _The baby! It's dying!_

Brom squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and forced himself to concentrate on the strange, chittering screeches intermittently peppering the air. Shadow birds.

But Zadí's dying words once again prevailed. _Goodbye, Brom. I love you, big brother._

Brom gritted his teeth and sucked in a slow breath through his nose—

"Brom, is everything all right?" Brin asked, interrupting his efforts of controlling his thoughts. He had never had such a hard time keeping his mind from wandering.

Brom decided to try ignoring the emotions by remembering the last detail from his surroundings. He quietly named the shadow birds in the ancient language and said, "My father gave those creatures and the burrow grubs proper names in this language."

"I've heard the story. And I recognized the angler frogs. Their croaking almost sounds like thunder. Do you think we might encounter any snalglí?"

Talking to Brin was helping, so Brom answered, "I don't sense any nearby, but I wouldn't be worried even if we did. They're too slow to present much of a threat."

"That's good because after yesterday I don't feel like killing anything ever again."

Brom glanced at her and reassuringly squeezed her hand. Then he raised his other arm to hold some vines hanging in their path out of her way.

"Thanks, Brom. You're such a gentleman." Brin shared a shy smile as she ducked under the low-hanging ivy dangling from the tree. She didn't fully clear it as she stood upright, and the foliage spattered her with a shower of crystal dew drops. As Brom released them, the vines fell like a curtain behind him, shutting out the forest beyond.

Brom focused on her lovely face, how her pale gray skin warmed with a pink flush. He recognized the look in her eyes, which spoke to him as clearly as words would have. Brin was thinking that he was handsome. A much more pleasant memory—from their wedding night, when the first falling rain streaked down her face—revisited him, and Brom leaned forward to kiss the droplets off her cheek.

As her heart rate increased, Brom's lips turned up against her skin. "I can hear your heart beating. On our wedding night you were completely brazen, so seeing you act timid is humorous."

"Is it bad to admit that it almost doesn't feel like we're married? So much has happened this last week. Getting married seems like a dream—the best part of the past few months."

Brom pulled away enough to skeptically raise his eyebrows and heard her heart perform another nervous patter. He hadn't backed up, so Brin rested against the tree behind her as he released her hand and placed both of his against the trunk on either side of her face. "I could remind you that it was real, that we're really married," he offered, intense but playful.

Her eyes glittered like yellow topaz in the shifting sunlight slanting down through the canopy's openings. Brin smiled in an entirely different way—invitingly, mischievously—and circled her arms around his waist. "Hmmm. Tempting . . . wait a minute. Am I taller than you again?"

Brom's lips were almost touching hers, and they twitched up in amusement. He fought the urge to close the gap as he replied, "Nice try. But no. We're still the same height. My unruly curls are level with the top of your horns."

"If you say so," Brin allowed with teasing reluctance. She tightened her arms around him in a proper hug, and he pulled her away from the tree so he could return the embrace. He slid his hands along her back as she continued, "We'd better not do this right now, handsome. If we're gone for more than a couple of hours, the others might start to worry."

"We've already been gone a couple hours," Brom murmured against her hair, breathing in the smell and admiring the deep obsidian shimmer. "No one is worried. Besides, who said we need to repeat our wedding night? I can be quick."

Brin snickered. "Are you sure about that?"

He smiled and turned his face toward her neck. "When I kiss you, I forget about everything else in the world. I want to forget about what happened yesterday for a few minutes before it kills me, and nothing else I've tried has worked. Please, Brin. Let me lose myself in you."

"Good point," Brin conceded, apparently agreeing with his reasoning, though she also sounded somewhat surprised. Perhaps she sensed his desperation from the change in his voice or how tightly he gripped the back of her shirt.

So she kissed him. And for the next little while, Brom finally succeeded in forgetting about everything but his wife.

-:-:-

When they were once again on their way, they quickly made it out of the lichen-covered trees into the valley beyond. While passing through stone ruins the size of small mountain ranges, Brom pointed out a courtyard with a weed-filled fountain in the middle. "See all of the stones surrounding that courtyard?" he asked in a low voice.

Brin nodded before looking over at him.

"On the night he discovered his true name—this was when he was on Vroengard the first time—my father cleared all that rubble out of the courtyard. Then he climbed that pillar and sat there until the realization of his true character dawned on him."

"He climbed all the way up _there?_ " Brin repeated. "That's really high. A few hundred feet."

Brom shrugged. "He told me he knew it was reckless, but he was feeling rash that night. At any rate, it seemed the necessary prerequisite to acquire that self-awareness."

"Impressive," Brin murmured. "How do you suppose our parents are doing? I wonder if Hanna has scryed them yet."

"She has," Brom apathetically confirmed. "She mentally shared a summary of the session just now as we made it out of the canyon so I could plan accordingly. Want to hear about it?"

Brom felt Brin's eyes return to his face as he vacantly studied the ground. "Brom, you can talk to me about what you're feeling. I mean, if you want. We have more experience fighting each other, but now that I'm actually your wife we could practice just talking."

He raised his head and stared at her, no humor lightening the deep anguish he felt. "It's Zadí . . ." he began in a strained whisper. "The more I think about it, the angrier I am that _I_ am the _special_ one, the one this group can't succeed without. Before we came here yesterday, I said, 'If I fail, Tenga wins.' Those words partly motivated Zadí's actions. And the worst of it is that it's true! She could die without compromising anything. But if I had died. . . . We still have that Shade to confront whenever she comes back. And now there are a couple Lethrblaka and Ra'zac back on Alagaёsia. What if they all team up together?"

Brin crinkled her forehead in surprise at this unexpected news and Brom's gloomy proposition, but Brom went on without explaining: "I just hate it. I wish I could have died and my little sister could be alive and looking forward to meeting her baby girl. She was so excited to be a mother, to share that experience with our mother once we got home. Now we'll never know that little girl. My parents were crushed when Ajh told them what happened while they scryed just now. It feels so unfair. My magical skill somehow sets me apart and makes me less _disposable_." He spat the word. "I wish we could just do away with magic altogether. Zadí always felt inferior because she couldn't use magic, but she proved that she was the bravest . . . most important of anyone."

Brom ended his rant with tears streaming down his cheeks. He sank to his knees and bowed his head. "Zadí," he mourned, clenching his trembling hands into fists. "Zadí, I'm so sorry, sweetie. So sorry."

Brin slowly knelt beside him and rested one hand over his fists, saying nothing as silent tears fell to her lap.

At length, Brom regained his composure. Perhaps feeling now would be a better time to try comforting him, Brin softly said, "It may not make you feel any better, but _I_ am glad you survived. I wish Zadí hadn't died, but I'm grateful you didn't too. As soon as Tenga ordered everyone to attack me so they could reach you, I promised our baby that he would meet his father."

Brom turned his face to look at her but said nothing, so Brin continued, "Even without your magical skill you would be amazing to me. I love you, handsome. Just wanted you to know."

Brom swallowed and mustered a half-hearted smile. "Thank you, Brin. That means a lot. Now let's finish our business here so I can do this last thing for my little sister." Brom opened one of his fists and linked his fingers through hers. Then he stiffly rose to his feet, pulling Brin up with him.

During the rest of their stroll, Brom related what he had learned from Hanna. They soon arrived at the entrance to the gigantic hall where the battle with Tenga had taken place. Skirting debris in the corridor they had run down the previous day, they stopped in front of the doors, which stood slightly ajar.

"This wreckage must be from when Tenga tore apart the ceiling yesterday," Brom guessed.

Brin muttered, "I don't think I can stomach another visit to that room. I can still see the face of every person I killed. I know I would try to pick them out. I just don't think I can handle it."

"Keep my hand and close your eyes," Brom instructed. "I'll use a spell to deaden our sense of smell."

"Thank you," Brin murmured, clamping her eyes shut. Brom performed the spell nonverbally as he leaned into the massive door to swing it open.

Once they moved into the room, Brom released a low whistle of astonishment at the scene before them. "The cost of our success was so high," he said in disgust, pulling on Brin's hand as he increased his pace. "Now I understand why you're struggling to deal with the aftermath of your actions. We did what we had to, but so many died. We owe these people some sort of burial."

"I doubt any of the six fighters—those of us responsible for this butchery—would volunteer to come back and take care of it," Brin said, eyes still squeezed shut.

"Maybe Hanna would help me."

"Gentle Hanna?" Brin disagreed. "She wouldn't be able to bear it. It's lucky she didn't have to see much of it."

"You're probably right. That Zadí died after her exposure to this nightmare might be some sort of kindness. I'm just going to set this place on fire as we leave. We'll get whatever we need from Tenga's study and the food pantries and never return."

"Keeta might appreciate it if we gather up her arrows. They, along with her bow, were a gift from Nefin. She wouldn't want to lose them. Nefin too, for that matter. Rhunön specially made his arrowheads from brightsteel. I don't think everyone got all of their shields. And Var didn't have his sword or shield as we walked back to camp. He dropped both before reaching Zadí's side and didn't pick them back up."

"We'll collect all of that on our way out."

"How will we carry it all?"

"I'll have to magically shrink it, the same as I will with Bid'Daum. We're out of the main hall now, by the way, if you want to open your eyes again. If I understood Lena's directions correctly, this door should lead to Tenga's study."

Brom stopped in front of the indicated door and pushed it open with one hand, then they passed through together.

"Bid'Daum's in here," Brom shared as he crossed to Tenga's desk and began shuffling through the papers scattered all about. "But Lena was right. He's completely withdrawn."

"What can I do to help?" Brin asked, stopping in front of some bookshelves. "I know we need to hurry as much as possible."

"I'll just use magic to take all of the books so we don't have to worry about sorting through them right now."

"Weren't you looking for something about making glass?"

"Yes. _Natural Elements and Their Related Uses_." Brom walked over to stand beside her and removed a book from the shelf. "Here it is. While I flip through this, grab the gemstones hidden behind the wall." He exposed the precious gems in their hiding places, and Brin moved around the room, retrieving them as she went.

Running his finger down the entry under "Sand," Brom muttered, "Here's what I need to know right here." Then, with a sudden sense of urgency, he added, "We need to go now. I only hastily glanced through, but some of Tenga's most recent journal entries had to do with Lena and the Shade. He worried that Lena was plotting to reverse all he had accomplished in destroying the Riders, which he told Trianna. I think Lena's in more danger than she realizes. The Shade isn't the only monster who wouldn't want the Riders to return. Tenga also guessed that the Shade wanted Bid'Daum for herself. We need to guard Bid'Daum, we need to get home as quickly as possible, and I want to be with everyone else before we talk about how we're going to do that."

Brom used magic to simultaneously assemble and shrink almost everything in Tenga's study—his journals, notes, books, the gemstones—and put it all together with the miniaturized Eldunarí. "Let's go."

Once they reached the battle scene, Brom summoned all the gear his friends left behind the previous day and stowed it in his growing collection. He also started the enchanted fire that would purge the hall of the battle's evidence. Then, using another spell, he simply protected himself and Brin from the heat and greasy smoke as they scurried toward the pantries along the wall farthest from the door.

After adding all of the edible food stores to his varied baggage, Brom guided Brin through the hall and back outside. They jogged directly back to their camp, allowing nothing to distract them on their return trip.

-:-:-:-


	121. Part III 22 Glass Tomb

**22\. Glass Tomb**

Var twitched when he heard someone speaking outside his tent. Though he never would have considered it when they were alive for fear of hurting them, he lay on his side with his head resting over the small bulge of Zadí's abdomen where their baby had been growing. Once his horn would have dug into her soft belly, but now—pressed into the hard surface under it—his horn actually dug into his head. Var focused on the discomfort because it proved he could still feel _some_ thing.

"Var," the voice repeated.

Var grunted irritably, wishing he could just keep ignoring everything going on around him. Better yet, he wished he could escape everything around him and be with Zadí. _I'll join you as soon as I can_ , he had promised.

 _And I'll be waiting._

"Var?" With more insistence.

Var sighed and forced himself to focus. Ajh. It was Ajh.

"What?" he grumbled, loudly enough for Ajh to hear.

"Will and Lena have returned with the elven Caretakers. Brom and Brin are back. We're ready to fulfill Zadí's request. But Hanna would like a moment alone with her first."

Var sat up and jerked the tent flap aside. "Hanna and anyone else who wants can have a moment with Zadí, but I'm not going anywhere."

Ajh was usually calm and easy-going, but he knew how to be firm when needed. Var recognized the change in his tone when he said, "Var, you're not the only one who loved her. She was Hanna's best friend. And because of the way you're acting—not that I blame you—Hanna is afraid to be around you right now. Just give her a minute, please."

Var finally looked at Ajh's face. What he asked wasn't unreasonable. Var knew he'd made Hanna feel worse than she already did. "Fine," he relented, crawling out of the tent and sitting next to the door.

"Thank you," Ajh said, raising a hand to beckon to Hanna. She swiftly approached and kept her face down—away from Var—as she ducked inside the tent.

Var just barely heard Hanna's soft singing in the ancient language, infused with magical power. But no sounds of weeping reached his ears. Not long after, Hanna reemerged and started walking away.

"Wait," Var called, and she stopped but didn't turn. "What were you doing?"

She glanced over her shoulder only enough for Var to see her profile. "Freezing her body in this state. Even deprived of air, some decomposition can still occur. I didn't want things getting messy inside this glass tomb Brom intends to create. Now nothing of that nature will happen, nor will heat from his spell damage her skin. She'll be perfectly preserved for as long as you wish."

Var swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. _Don't let them start,_ he warned. _They might never stop._ "Thank you," he whispered, rapidly blinking his eyes.

Hanna clearly heard, and she nodded. Her faint, "And thank _you_ for letting me say goodbye," just reached him over the soft breaking of waves on the beach. Then she departed.

Before Var could even crawl back in next to Zadí, Hanna returned with a small crowd, which gathered around his tent. Two new faces—those of two elven women who must have been the Caretakers Iduna and Nëya—filled in for Nefin's absence.

Grasping a medium-sized mirror by the handle, Hanna performed a scrying spell to contact the Great Hall on the Isle. Then she handed the looking glass to Ajh and followed Brom into Var's tent.

They exited just as quickly with Zadí's body floating between them. No one said anything. Having already shed plenty of tears, the group immediately surrounding Zadí was silent. The soothing melody from the ocean and wildlife seemed loud, for all sounds of grieving issued forth from the opposite end of Hanna's enchantment, particularly from Eragon and Arya.

Var couldn't meet their gaze. But as they skimmed over Zadí's parents, he caught sight of his mother and Var's resolve to remain stoic melted away. Hopeless tears spilled out of his eyes as he longed to be with her. _She_ understood his sorrow. Though he was now so much bigger than she, perhaps mother would still allow him to lay his head in her lap while singing words that might somehow soothe his pain and promise of a brighter tomorrow.

Var could scarcely see through his tears, but he kept his eyes on his mother's—reading in them her love and empathy—until she dropped them to watch Zadí's funeral. He followed her example and concentrated on his wife's entombment.

While Hanna maintained the spell that kept Zadí hovering just above the ground—and right at Var's level, which he knew was no accident—Brom performed his part nonverbally. He engulfed Zadí in a cloud of sand, clearing it of all debris as it swirled around her.

Var wasn't sure what he expected next, but he certainly wasn't prepared for the bolt of lightning that streaked down from the sky to encompass his wife. Brom had undoubtedly ensured that none of the onlookers would be harmed by their proximity to the flash as he sent the electricity coursing through the sand encircling Zadí. Maybe his goal was speed and efficiency, which made sense given their circumstances.

Under Brom's careful control, the lightning heated the sand to an extreme temperature, transforming the entire layer into a glass shroud around Zadí's body. Then Hanna lowered her to the ground in front of Var.

"It's done," Brom quietly informed him. "I made the glass thin so it wouldn't be too heavy, but I magically strengthened it to prevent shattering. We'll build a stand to lay her on like a monument." Then he turned toward the mirror. "We'll bring her home, mother. Father, sorry I didn't keep her safe."

Before glancing down, Var saw Eragon shake his head. _No, that was_ my _job,_ Var miserably thought _. I was responsible for keeping her safe. I promised her father I'd protect her. And I failed._

As he studied Zadí's peaceful countenance, Var heard Eragon say, "Brom, we'll build a monument for Zadí. Varhog and I. You've done your part. Let us honor Zadí in this way. Bring her home to the Isle, and we'll have it ready. Come back home. All of you, come back just as soon as you can."

Var and Will spent a few minutes speaking to their parents. Instead of bringing a smile to his face, meeting his baby triplet siblings only intensified Var's suffering. He would have welcomed his own baby girl in a few months. Not anymore.

The other youth who weren't present when Hanna first scryed also briefly visited with their parents, particularly Lena, whose abduction had been the reason for their departure from the Isle so many months earlier. But everyone seemed to share Brom's sense of urgency that they should now focus on what needed to happen next and how they would get off Vroengard.

Var agreed. Now that they had seen to Zadí, he wanted to be active and moving. Sitting still doing nothing would make him crazy.

So he was relieved when Hanna finally ended the scrying session. He was the one to interrupt his friends' subdued chatting by standing and saying, "So what's next? How are we getting out of here? What are our options?"

Everyone looked around uncertainly. Then Brom answered, "I think that depends on how much magical help I might get. I could probably build a ship in a few hours if Bid'Daum would help me. I wonder if the Caretakers might have any input." He respectfully turned toward the elven sisters.

Var didn't know who was who, but the silver-haired twin said, "Bid'Daum has generously assisted us and Lena in a number of ways. I daresay he will continue to do so. Perhaps we needn't worry about something like a ship. Tenga could travel very quickly by flying through the air. Or we might attempt to reinstate the Dragon Rider pact directly, and then your dragons would very likely return. Either method of flying back to the Isle of the Eldunarí would be swifter than sailing."

Var noticed Brom, Brin, Will, and Lena exchanging meaningful glances, which the Caretakers missed. "I suppose we can try," Lena doubtfully contributed, and Var knew he was out of the loop on something important. But nothing seemed more important than the fact that his wife and baby had died, so he didn't care very much.

Brom shrugged and performed some unspoken spell to bring Bid'Daum's Eldunarí into full view on the beach stretching away from them. "Yes, we might as well try."

Var couldn't help being impressed by the sheer enormity of the circular gem-like structure. Its size alone bespoke immense power, and he felt hopeful that they would indeed leave this accursed place faster than they had arrived. Having Blackfire back might somehow lessen his misery.

"Do you want to try, Iduna?" Lena asked. So the silver-haired elf was Iduna. Which made the black-haired twin Nëya. "Or should I?"

"I shall," the woman replied. "Then Nëya. If we cannot reach him, you may attempt, but we never approved of your methods of communication with such an honored dragon."

Var clearly heard the reproof in the old woman's voice, and so too did Will. Obviously. But he did nothing more to display his displeasure than close his free hand—the one not holding Lena's—into a loose fist. His expression remained calm and respectful. Var almost felt curious about what was going on, but then he didn't. Who cared?

One after the other the Caretakers proceeded to reverently address Bid'Daum, imploring him to emerge from his distant musings and aid them, but without success. Lena raised her eyebrows in a look that clearly conveyed, "See what I mean?" to Brom and Will, but Var was once again sure the elven sisters didn't catch on.

They reluctantly turned to Lena once it was clear that their efforts would be fruitless. Var again noted her skepticism as Lena then said, "Bid'Daum, can you hear me? Please listen. As you know, my friends made it here. Thank you for assisting them. We defeated Tenga, but he destroyed their ship and we need to return home. Will you help us? Then we can restore the Dragon Rider pact, as we discussed."

A white light deep within the dragon's consciousness flickered faintly, but that was all the more acknowledgement he gave.

The twin sisters appeared troubled, and Nëya said, "We must cease. We do not wish to upset him."

"So Bid'Daum's help is out," Var stated. "Now what? The two biggest threats we might have to face are the Shade and Lethrblaka. But do we have any way of knowing if she has returned? Or where she will return if she hasn't already?"

"She was created here," Lena reminded. "Would that influence anything?"

"I don't know about any of that," Brom responded. "But even if Bid'Daum won't actively aid us, perhaps I can still borrow his vitality. He never much cared when Tenga did, at least not until the very end. And my motives are much more favorable. I'm going to try right now, and I'll speak aloud so you can hear what I'm doing."

He began to weave a spell intended to create a sail from some of the wreckage washed ashore after Tenga's tempest.

But as soon as Var sensed him draw off the dragon's Eldunarí, a furious voice boomed in their minds: _How dare you steal my power, elfling! Never again will I permit another being to besmirch my majesty. Not only that, but doing so places each of you in grave danger._

Lena seemed prepared for something of this nature, for she immediately fired back, "As if _you_ honestly care about _our_ well-being, oh great dragon! But you should! If we all die, you could very easily fall into this Shade's hands. And believe me when I say that she will stop at nothing to coerce you into serving her foul purposes."

"Lena," Nëya warned.

"Never mind, Nëya," Lena snapped. "Just let me talk to him. He's being ridiculous, and though you zealously want to ignore this nonsense when it comes from him, that won't erase it. Bid'Daum needs to realize that we only have his and the other dragons' best interest at heart. We want to protect Alagaësia by reestablishing the Dragon Rider treaty."

 _Believe it or not, impudent girl,_ Bid'Daum rumbled, _I have given some thought to our conversations. You always accuse me of being selfish, but I have thought of a condition I would like to implement which proves I sometimes consider the needs of others._

"And what might that be?" Lena sarcastically demanded. "Enlighten us, mighty one."

A tendril of amused . . . indulgence—no, relief. . . . Well, Var couldn't quite identify the emotion. But though the dragon condemned it, he clearly preferred Lena's insolence to the Caretakers worshipful obeisance. Var realized that this interesting dynamic between Lena, the dragon, and the elven twins had been developing during her entire nine-month imprisonment. He had never known Lena to act so flippant and fiery. Zadí was always the feisty one. His heart ached again.

Bid'Daum answered, _To ensure that no one ever again abuses the strength of the Eldunarí, I propose weaving a spell to defend them from such misuse after reinstating the Dragon Rider pact._

Lena's mouth dropped open in utter shock, and she looked up at Will with wide eyes. "Are you being serious, Bid'Daum?"

 _Have you ever known me to tease?_ the dragon rejoined. _I am serious, Lena. In order for this to be successful, I believe we will need to wait until the Dragon Rider pact is restored so we have the assistance of the bonded dragons. Dragon magic is unruly at best, but it is powerful. I believe they will deeply resent the fate Tenga inflicted upon them of forgetting their Riders. I anticipate that their emotions upon being reunited will be strong. Strong enough to successfully create a magical effort of this magnitude. Therefore, we must wait to reestablish the Dragon Rider pact until we are on the Isle of the Eldunarí where the other bodiless dragons dwell and where the bonded dragons will return to find their Riders. Do you agree?_

"Uh . . . um," Lena stammered. "Yes! I agree! And I am indeed surprised that you suggested this. I never would have suspected you to care enough."

 _Not much has really changed_ , Bid'Daum said. _I care only enough to desire this safeguard for other members of my species. Do not think it changes anything from our previous negotiations._

Var felt the weight of this statement and saw that it meant more to the two married couples as well. However, Lena bypassed any explanation by saying, "But if you have been contemplating _this_ , why did you ignore us just now?"

 _Because I do not care how you travel home._

"You could help us get there faster, Bid'Daum!" Lena exclaimed in frustration. "Then we could do this and everything else we've discussed."

 _Have you forgotten that when one borrows my vitality, so too can anyone else?_

"No, I haven't. But no one here wants to misuse your power right now. Brom just wants to help us get home!"

 _I shall explain what I meant before about the danger you would be in if young Brom here were to borrow my power, which will also answer some of your questions regarding this Shade's return. I happen to know something about the reincarnation of a Shade. He or she will be drawn to areas of powerful magical expression and will leech vitality from such an environment to permanently strengthen his or her magical skill. Allowing you to use my power would be like sending out a beacon to guide the Shade straight to us. The vastness of my presence alone is conspicuous enough as to be concerning. I must close myself off as soon as possible and remain withdrawn deep inside my heart. The most you can do is quickly replenish any precious gemstones you possess to bolster your future magical efforts, but that is all. You must decide on your own—without my involvement—how to return home. Wherever you travel, keep me and the Caretakers out of sight. I will not be available to call upon again until we reach the Isle of the Eldunarí._

"Well, why didn't you say anything before?" Lena demanded. "When Brom and Hanna were performing all of that magic!"

 _They defeated the Shade once. Would it truly be so hard to do so again?_

Lena silently fumed for a moment, clearly fed up with Bid'Daum, but it seemed he was finished participating. After his final comment, the great white Eldunarí terminated his communication with their minds and removed himself deep inside his heart of hearts.

Var raised his eyebrows at the abrupt cessation. "And that's that. So we're back to the boat idea. It was a tight fit for nine of us rowing in the long boat. Now we have thirteen and Zadí can't sit up anymore. Nefin is also unconscious. Which begs the question: should we split up? Some of us can row to Narda for a larger ship then come back for the others. I volunteer."

"I don't think splitting up is a good idea," Brom differed. "If what Bid'Daum said is true, and there's no reason he wouldn't know since he has been around for many more Shades than we have, then we need to be really careful. That Trianna transformed into a Shade on Vroengard may very well increase the chances that she will rematerialize here. On top of that, Tenga and I engaged in an intense magical duel yesterday, which might have been enough to already attract her. And Hanna has used magic for healing, along with what we just did for Zadí. Even if I could magically speed a trip to Narda and back, what if she showed up while we were gone? She would most likely kill those who stayed behind. It has been over a month since we fought the Shade in Ilirea. I say it's too risky to divide up at this point."

"Not to mention unnecessarily adding time as we go back and forth from here to the mainland," Will added. "If we're going to leave in the long boat, we need to do it together."

"Then I'll swim," Var offered. "Figure out a way to enlarge the long boat. See you when you catch up." And he turned and strode toward the ocean.

Will caught him within three seconds. "Var, don't be an idiot. You could get killed swimming in the sea around Vroengard."

"Exactly," Var said, pulling his arm free. But Will grabbed his wrist again, this time with an iron grip. His twin was just as strong, maybe even stronger thanks to his feverish rowing toward Vroengard right before rescuing Lena. Though he tried, Var couldn't escape his grasp.

"Var! _Don't be an idiot!_ " Will repeated in a low hiss. "I know how much you're hurting right now—"

"No you don't!" Var retorted. "Lose Lena, then you'll know. You might be able to imagine—"

"Shut up," Will ordered. "All those months we were looking for Lena, there was always the chance she was already dead. Var, we're identical. As much as someone can understand what you're going through without actually losing their spouse, I understand. So stop being an idiot. I won't say how sorry I am again because you don't want to hear it, but remember that the rest of us are grieving for Zadí right now too. We all loved her. And think of what another death in our group would do to us. We need you to help us get home. Don't throw your life away."

Var clenched his jaw and gazed out over the ocean. He stopped struggling to free his arm, feeling more defeated and hopeless than before. "Fine," he muttered. "I won't. But no promises if we have to fight that Shade or those other monsters."

Will must have decided he'd won enough for now. Rather than arguing more, he simply turned Var away from the water with a hand on his shoulder and gently—but insistently—guided him back to the others.

They were already busy preparing to leave the island with all due haste. Brom had magically enlarged the long boat enough to accommodate the extra passengers, as well as Zadí's shrine and Nefin's prone body. Keeta, Ajh, Lena, and Hanna were sorting through the huge collection of items Brom had retrieved from the living hall to determine what they would need access to during the trip and what could be minimized for easy transport.

Will and Var started breaking camp and packing up the tents and other gear. "We can probably leave some of these," Will commented. "We know we'll sail straight home once we have a ship, so we won't need tents anymore."

Var didn't respond. "I'm going to make more oars. Everyone who can needs to help row so we can get to Narda as soon as possible."

"I'll help you," Brom said, walking up beside them. "And I want to find some gold or silver in the ground. We didn't bring any money when we abandoned ship, but we might need it in Narda to buy a new one."

"If we don't just end up stealing it," Var darkly suggested, heading for the beach and some of the washed up driftwood from their ship. "By the way, how did you do that thing with the lightning?"

Brom followed after him and answered, "Tenga had some very interesting notes about the electrical power of lightning. He had come up with spells to harness lightning but was also endeavoring to create machines that would generate and run off of it. The Riders would probably be able to reproduce his inventions when we get back home."

Var was in no mood to agree that such a concept seemed remarkable, so he simply continued working.

Within an hour, the nine youth, two elven Caretakers, one bedraggled werecat, and one magically reduced Eldunarí cast off of Vroengard's western shore and began rowing east toward Alagaësia's mainland and the coastal town of Narda, where they hoped to find a larger seaworthy vessel that would carry them through to their journey's end.

-:-:-:-

* * *

 **A/N:** One of my guest readers recently brought to my attention the problems associated with encasing a dead body in glass. I hope I adequately addressed that. And forgive me if I did anything "wrong" with the whole glass-making procedure. I don't actually know much about that, but in my mind, anything that can be accomplished magically doesn't require a logical or realistic scientific explanation. Thanks for reading and enjoy the next chapter!


	122. Part III 23 Reborn

**23\. Reborn**

Swirling, shrieking wind funneled through the ruins, followed by an even more hellish screeching as an unidentifiable blur hurtled toward the ground. Upon impact, a resonating boom exploded outward and toppled every crumbling structure in its path. Before the reverberations from the blast fully faded away, an unearthly fiend threw back its head and once again rent the air with a scream of fury.

A churning mass of pulsating orbs reluctantly chased the beast, trailing streaks of glaring iridescent light, which cast a ghostly glow on the writhing creature's pasty skin. Compelled by the dark magic binding them, the spirits plunged themselves straight into the chest of the human-like monster, who flung her arms out to either side and screamed again during the brutal resurgence.

As their final act of angry defiance, the spirits lifted the fiend off the ground, forcing her to arch backward in a horrible manner. Long maroon tresses whipped in the gale, and her limbs dangled behind her at a sickening angle. A shrill, tormented cry ripped from her throat and fiery eyes snapped open at this new agony, blazing with a burning red light that penetrated into the darkness.

" _Release me_!" the Shade shrieked. " _You_ answer to _me_ , devilish spirits!"

In a sullen surrender, the spirits ceased controlling her body, and Trianna crumpled to the ground in a twisted heap. Both arms shattered during the graceless fall, and she shouted a curse before spitting the magical words of healing.

Power coursed through her veins, building each moment as if fueled by the very air around her. Once again whole, the Shade sprang to her feet, holding both arms out as she gazed down at her newly restored figure. What she saw pleased her.

She was both tall and strong, with heightened reflexes to rival an elf. Light from the half dozen powerful spirits trapped inside made her pale skin luminous and smooth. Never mind that her ghastly face contained none of her former beauty. It seemed a fair trade considering her newfound invincibility.

Flexing her fingers, the Shade let out a chilling laugh. "I'm back."

Then she looked around herself to discover her location and whether or not an audience had beheld her rebirth. Nothing save the skeletal remains of Vroengard surrounded her, easily recognizable from her many months of living there as the human woman Trianna.

"And I am still Trianna," she confidently stated, pivoting on her heel to march toward the living hall. "But so much more than a mere human. Perhaps I ought to clothe myself. Not that anyone seems to be around to object to my nudity."

A self-indulgent laugh escaped her sneering lips as she strode through the stone rubble. "But I wonder, should that give me pause?" she asked herself. "Where is everyone? Those nine young people triumphed over me, it is true, so they knew to come here next. Maybe I have arrived in time to help Tenga prepare a welcoming party."

She chuckled again and passed through the main entrance of the living hall, noticing new destruction in the corridor as she walked toward the expansive chamber beyond. "Interesting. I wonder if this is simply the result of my violent landing back there."

With the same scornful amusement still marring her features, the Shade pushed open the doors and halted dead in her tracks. An unexpected phenomenon transpired as she surveyed the room, courtesy of her newly enhanced magical abilities.

A scene rose up behind her eyes, faded and flickering as if comprised only of vague memories and shadows. Silent afterimages of a fierce battle flitted through her mind, and the Shade realized that she was witnessing the last major event to occur in this place. Perhaps only days earlier. Reeking ash piles all over the floor were all that remained of Vroengard's former inhabitants—her erstwhile friends.

"Tragic," she remarked without the slightest twinge of regret. "And poor Tenga. Also gone." The wickedest laugh she had yet uttered rolled forth and bounced around the empty space. "Fitting that Lena was the one to finish him off. Feisty little trollop. Well, now that we no longer need snivel to an overconfident, gullible master, shall we perform some grave robbing? What treasures might we find in that crazy old genius' study? I dearly hope his Eldunarí friend is still here. I have a feeling we would get along famously."

The Shade briefly stopped in her former quarters to don some clothing, which didn't fit quite as it once had given her increased height. She easily remedied the situation using magic and continued on to Tenga's private chambers.

A cursory glance around was more than sufficient to reveal that Trianna was too late. So she utilized the same new ability she had recently discovered of sensing the last activity to happen in the room. This scene somehow seemed clearer, as if it had happened more recently.

A tall, handsome young man who strikingly resembled the Dragon Rider Eragon as he had appeared when Trianna had first cornered him in Tronjheim over three decades earlier, along with an equally tall and attractive female Urgal, rifled through Tenga's belongings. Then almost all said belongings suddenly vanished, and the Shade knew the boy had magically reduced them for easy carrying.

"Impressive. I daresay that was Eragon and Arya's son. For one so young, he seemed a powerful magician. And that Urgal was the girl who fought me in Ilirea. From what I saw just now of their battle with Tenga, her fighting has improved since then, and she was already immensely skilled. She was defending that boy, who must have engaged Tenga. So they beat me here, defeated Tenga and all his followers, and have already gone. Or have they? These events are very fresh. How do I know that? Good question. Does it matter? Not at all." She snorted and cast her awareness across the island, searching for any trace of living people.

"Plenty of snalglí and other Vroengard natives, but no pesky children. Now wait. Be fair. They deserve better than that, don't they? We certainly underestimated them, Tenga and I. He no doubt attempted other means of vanquishing them after they eluded us in Ilirea, which efforts they also clearly thwarted. Hmm. Well, I shall not make the same mistake twice. An army of dozens or hundreds is clearly not enough to stop these nine youth, so I must find one even larger. And what day is it? Well, no matter. I can tell it is mid-spring, which means the Lethrblaka have transformed. I will recruit them and the Ra'zac to my cause, which shouldn't be hard. They will fare far better in a land free of dragons. Tenga was convinced Lena had discovered his secrets and was working to reverse all he so painstakingly achieved, so we must ensure the dear princess does not make it home alive. Can't have the Dragon Riders returning. No indeed."

Trianna swiftly exited the moldering building. Before leaving Vroengard, she sensed the residue of some powerful magical effort on the western shore of the island and made a detour there to discover what had caused it.

Several unassembled tents scattered the beach, which was covered all over with footprints in the sand. She closed her eyes to glean enlightenment from her internal vision and observed the curly-haired boy—Brom, if she remembered from when she still lived in the royal palace under the high queen's stewardship—enclose a dead body in glass. Yet another surprising demonstration of magical prowess. And the girl he encased closely resembled his mother Arya, which meant she was most likely his sister.

"So there was a casualty among the opposition," the Shade commented, recalling the first scene she had discerned in this manner. The battle in the hall flashed through her mind, and she suddenly understood the reason these pictures appeared so clouded. Smoke from a fire obscured her vision, casting a gray haze over the events that happened before it.

Trianna focused on a different area of the room to watch the girl's death. "Ah, how heroic. The girl sacrificed herself to save this young man. He must be important. The eldest and most gifted as far as magic is concerned. He must have been extensively involved in the skirmish in Ilirea, but I do not recall seeing him. Perhaps he was invisible. I need to know."

Trianna forced herself to remember farther back, all the way back to when the youth were navigating the maze. How many had faced the Shade's shadow? She seized the memory from the illusionary Trianna and counted them. Nine. Nine young people had met her predecessor in the labyrinth. And Brom was one of them.

 _But move forward now to the mausoleum_ , she went on, mentally traveling to that location and shuffling through memories until she arrived at her desired point in time. _Now how many are there? Only eight. Ajh drank the poison—the fool—and he is right there by the entrance with an elf and this dead girl. Not dead then, of course. But where is Brom? Yes, he must have made himself invisible. Now I remember that someone countered my first spell! And removed all of my wards! He undoubtedly did the same with Tenga. But I couldn't sense him nor his magical efforts at all. So he somehow learned to disguise them? Fascinating. I shall have to acquire that particular skill. The Ra'zac might have a few tips._

The Shade returned to the present and refocused on the silent replay of the last scene to occur on the beach. "And the dead girl was pregnant—remember how awkwardly she ran? That part Urgal ram kneeling beside her also went to her just after she was stabbed. Her husband, perhaps? Twin brother of Lena's beau. Losing a wife and unborn child might make him reckless, if he's anything like the other Dragon Riders. So noble. Ach, love does the worst things to people!"

She curled her lip in disgust. "Well, these discoveries certainly are useful. This knowledge will assist me in planning our next confrontation. But no need to rush. They rowed away from here with the Caretakers, which means the Eldunarí was not helping them. Though I could easily overtake them, I must use this time to prepare so _I_ will emerge victorious in the end."

Engaging in Tenga's preferred form of travel now came as easily to the Shade as walking, so Trianna launched herself into the air and sped toward Alagaësia.

-:-:-:-

* * *

 **A/N:** I hope you kind of understood what I was trying to describe there. It was like she could see a movie of the recent events in any place, but I obviously couldn't use words like movie, fast-forward, rewind, etc.

As usual, THANK YOU to everyone who left me a review. I really, really love reading them! (Hint, hint ;). So leave me some more! Until next time! ~Autumn :)


	123. Part III 24 How Much

**24\. How Much**

The eclectic party rowing from Vroengard reached Narda within three days' time thanks to Brom's magical assistance. They encountered no trouble procuring supplies and a ship similar to the one the twins had built. Townspeople in Narda had nothing to report regarding the Lethrblaka or Ra'zac, which was unsurprising considering the monsters' mortal fear of water. So the youth warned the villagers to be alert and were on their way back home within four days of leaving the island.

Var and Will effectively switched roles, and Var constantly stayed active with the job of adjusting the sails and rigging while Will captained the vessel. Var insisted that Zadí's body remain on the main deck with him since she had always enjoyed observing the ocean for any signs of life and the sky in its various states of splendor.

Will and Lena therefore claimed the captain's cabin, whereas Brom and Brin occupied one end of the berth cabin, and Brom created a magical barrier to give himself and Brin some privacy. Ajh agreed to share a small room near the galley with Nefin—who had not as yet recovered from the poison's effects—so that Hanna, Keeta, the elven Caretakers, and the werecat could bunk in the opposite end of the berth cabin.

Swiftpaw had developed such a friendship with Lena that she requested to simply accompany them home, and no one objected. Iduna and Nëya largely remained aloof. True to his word, Bid'Daum stayed withdrawn deep inside his heart of hearts. Since he was not actively sustaining the ancient twin sisters, they rested the majority of each day and never engaged in the slightest magical effort so as to preserve their vitality until they could restore the Dragon Rider treaty.

Because of Nefin's condition, the room Ajh shared with him doubled as the sick ward, and both Hanna and Ajh found the proximity to the galley convenient. Having performed her role in Narda of obtaining supplies for the first leg of their journey, Keeta now spent every waking moment—and most of her sleeping ones too—at Nefin's side. Between feverish burning and bouts of chills, he often spoke deliriously and muttered Keeta's name during his nightmares. He seemed closer every day to awakening, as his increased awareness suggested.

Nefin tossed on the bed then suddenly cried out, "No! I wouldn't! Ever! I love her! I love you, Keeta!" Groaning as his head flopped sideways, he mumbled, "Don't give up." And even fainter, "Don't . . . give . . . up."

Keeta squeezed his hand and scrunched her face to fight the tears. More than once Nefin had shouted those words. That nightmare—whatever it was—troubled him more than any other, and she desperately wished she knew what it meant.

"I'm here, Nefin," Keeta softly reassured. "I didn't give up. Please wake up. It's over. It's all over."

Keeta studied his handsome face, now gaunt as well as pale. Though Hanna had tried to feed him, Nefin had eaten nothing and kept down very little fluid in the past five days. She reached up to stroke his cheek, noticing how smooth his skin was. A dwarf or human boy his age might have grown some stubble during a five-day coma, but not Nefin.

Keeta smiled sadly as she briefly ran her fingers through his hair, thinking about how he always teased her when it got shaggy. He needed a trim again.

In spite of her plea, Nefin did not wake up right then, so Keeta focused her eyes on the far wall, attempting to find something new and interesting in the monotonous pattern to keep her awake.

Uniform wood planks comprised the walls and floor, and during her vigil Keeta had already memorized every knot and irregularity in the boards. The room was in the cargo hold, so no portholes adorned the walls. A bright glow from one of Hanna's Erisdar lit the small space, and the smell of fish permeated the vessel. Unlike the twins' ship, which they had maintained as their prized possession, this boat was older and in an obvious state of neglect.

Keeta sighed and returned her eyes to the bed, where they immediately fixated on the snag in the gray blanket covering Nefin. She absently began picking it, already knowing her fussing would do nothing to repair the imperfection, just as it hadn't any of the last fifty times she had tried.

Her eyelids grew heavy as she fought the ship's rhythmic rocking, afraid to fall into her own nightmares, where mutilated corpses always popped up in random places and chased her. But her efforts ultimately failed, and the soothing motion lulled her into a fitful sleep.

-:-:-

Keeta's head sharply jerked down, and she abruptly startled awake. When her eyes snapped open, Nefin was watching her.

She yawned. "Sorry I dozed off. I haven't been sleeping well. Nightmares." Then her eyes widened. "Nefin! You're awake!" Without thinking, she threw herself onto his chest and forced her arms around his neck.

He grunted in response. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Nefin!" Keeta apologized, quickly scrambling back to her bedside chair. "I . . . you've been unconscious for five days. I'm just so relieved you woke up." She stared at her lap as blood rushed to her cheeks.

But she couldn't resist looking back up when he breathed a soft laugh. His smile split parched lips, but it was the most beautiful thing Keeta had seen all week.

Nefin opened his mouth to speak, but five days of disuse and dehydration prevented him. He turned his face toward the ceiling and closed his eyes, sucking in a labored breath.

"Nefin, I'm going to get Hanna. She's been nearly as anxious as I and will help you. You haven't eaten at all and barely had anything to drink."

"No, don't leave," Nefin rasped, forcing out the words.

Keeta furrowed her brow, hopping up to pour Nefin a glass of water. "Very well. But if I call from the door, she'll probably hear. She's most likely in the galley with Ajh."

She handed Nefin the cup, and he accepted it while using his other hand to grasp her wrist. He took a long drink then lowered the glass. "Stay with me, Keeta. I want to be alone with you for a minute."

"We've been alone a lot the past few days."

Nefin smiled again. "My lips feel really dry."

Keeta reached into her pocket for some lip balm. "Um, here. You can use this. I've been applying some a few times a day. We had a hard time getting fluids into you so they were always dry, but especially when you were feverish."

Nefin took the ointment and used it. "So we've been alone a lot and you've been touching my lips?"

Keeta breathed a short laugh, exhaling through her nose. "I guess so."

"Where are we?"

Keeta refilled the glass as she explained about the ship, but each new bit of information led to more questions. Eventually Nefin simply asked her to fill him in on everything that had happened since the battle with Tenga. By the end of so much talking, _Keeta_ needed a drink of water.

Though he had done nothing but listen and ask questions for an hour, Nefin seemed more exhausted than before. Maybe because of his tears upon hearing of Zadí's death. He closed his red eyes, settling his head deeper into the pillow.

After a while, Keeta tentatively asked, "Nefin, are you all right?"

He sighed and answered without opening his eyes: "Depends on what you mean. I'm heartbroken Zadí died. I wish it had been me. Tenga got so close to succeeding. So emotionally, I'm not all right. Physically, I'm also not all right. I'm starving and weak. But there's one thing that is right, Keeta. You are here with me. Thank you for saving my life."

He finally reopened his eyes to regard her. Clearly he was waiting for her to speak, so Keeta mumbled, "You're welcome. You know why I did. You know I couldn't have let you die any more than I could have killed you."

"But why?" he pressed, obviously expecting a specific answer. "You've never said the words to me."

"You don't remember?"

"Remember what?"

"You must have already been unconscious. Right after you thought your last words to me, I said the same to you."

"I need to hear you say it, Keeta. How much do you love me?"

Keeta disbelievingly blinked back the tears that suddenly filled her eyes and jumped up. "Are you _serious_? You have to _ask_? You have to _hear_ it! _You almost died, Nefin!_ I killed so many people to keep them from reaching you. I cut off their legs, and arms, and heads. Because I couldn't stand the thought of you dying. And I would have laid down my life to protect you. That's how much I love you. I'd die for you, Nefin!"

She glared at the wall, arms trembling at her sides. Then, "I'm going to get Hanna."

"Wait, Keeta," Nefin insisted, reaching for her hand to stop her. "I didn't mean to doubt you. Your actions spoke louder than words, but I wanted to be sure before I asked."

Without releasing her hand, he struggled to sit up in the bed. Then he scooted back to lean against the wall. "Come sit with me?"

Keeta allowed him to pull her over, then she sat beside him. She sniffed loudly and raised her other arm to scrub at her eyes, but more tears trailed down her cheeks.

"Shh," Nefin soothed, wrapping his arms around her. "Brave Keeta. Beautiful girl. You say you love me enough that you'd die for me, but do you trust my love enough to marry me?"

Keeta stared at him in dumb silence. Finally she managed, "Are you being serious?"

"Look at me and tell me I'm teasing."

"You aren't," she allowed after searching his face. "But I wouldn't want to marry you if you're only asking because I saved your life."

Nefin shook his head. "Don't insult me, Keeta. I owe you my life, but I'm offering my love. Will you marry me?"

Though Keeta longed to believe his sincerity, she still hesitated. "Are you sure you're not just asking because of all we've been through together or because you nearly died."

Nefin moved one hand away from her shoulders and slid it into his pocket. When he withdrew it, he held a ring between his thumb and forefinger. "Here's the proof. I always keep it with me in case the right moment to give it to you appears. Would you like to know how long I've had it?"

Keeta nodded mutely, gaping in amazement at the solid diamond band glittering on Nefin's palm. The gem was of the purest, clearest quality Keeta had ever seen, which was impressive considering she was a dwarf.

"Since I left Ellesméra over a year ago. I stayed to help Rhunön with my bow. Then she suggested we make one for you. She told me an incredible story, Keeta, about how she once loved the dwarven smith Fûthark. Their relationship wasn't open, but they secretly married. This is the ring he crafted for her, and the knowledge of how to do it has now been lost. She thought it appropriate that another elf and dwarf couple carry on their legacy."

"Another elf and dwarf," Keeta breathlessly echoed. After gawking at the ring for several long moments, Keeta lifted her eyes to Nefin's face and gazed at him, unspeaking, for several more.

"What's wrong?" he asked in concern.

"I'm just waiting to wake up," Keeta dreamily said.

Nefin grinned. "Does this usually happen in your dreams?" he wondered, leaning forward to briefly kiss her.

As her heart rate increased, Keeta felt an infatuated smile part her lips. "Uh, in the best ones. But it never feels like _that._ "

"I love that I can hear your heart do that," Nefin said in amusement. "It was my favorite part of your archery lessons."

"It was the most infuriating part for me," Keeta admitted. "But I can't seem to help it."

"Perhaps you'd like to know that you have the same effect on me, though you might not be able to hear it. When I followed you on your birthday to give you your bow, do you remember how my voice caught when I said those were the _main_ gifts from me?"

"I do remember that."

"This ring was the other. One I wasn't sure I'd ever have a chance to give."

"It's so beautiful. I don't feel worthy."

"Don't be silly," Nefin scolded, raising a hand to finger the tips of her hair. "No one could be worthier. By the way, I love what you've done with your hair."

Keeta rolled her eyes. "That's not quite accurate. I didn't _do_ anything to it. Someone chopped off my braid. I was so frustrated because I know how much you liked it."

"I still like it. It's adorable." Nefin paused and smoothed the blanket over his lap. "So, not to be repetitive, but you never really answered a second ago. Keeta, will you marry me?"

Keeta pursed her lips before slowly letting out her breath. "I . . . I want to say yes so much, but I'm just . . . worried, I guess. I'm not sure how to express my concern though. I feel awkward even thinking about it."

Nefin solemnly regarded her for a time then said, "Well, you'd better try because I have no idea what you mean."

Keeta tried to maintain eye contact and started to blush. So she lowered her eyes to examine the bed cover, and the frustrating pucker in the material once again demanded her attention. Using her fingernail, she plucked at the threads, wishing she could fix the flaw. Once she could have, when she was still a Dragon Rider.

Nefin spoke a quiet spell, and the snag disappeared. "It seemed to be bothering you," he explained when she looked up in surprise. "You always like things to be spotless and organized."

That was true. Nefin knew so much about her. He had observed many of her quirks during their travels and always seemed to think them endearing. "But you shouldn't be using magic right now! You said you were starving! In fact, I really think it's time to tell Hanna you're awake. She has been beside herself about Zadí and desperate to help anyone however she can. The rest of us are fine, but you could really benefit—"

"Keeta, why are you avoiding my question?"

Keeta bit her lower lip and sat on her hands to still the nervous fidgeting. "I . . . I really don't know how to talk about it."

"You don't want to marry me?" he surmised, almost disguising his disappointment.

"No. I mean, that's not it! I've loved you for so long, Nefin, and I've always imagined how romantic it would be to marry you. You're so handsome and gallant. Most girls are completely star struck when they see you, so it was always fun pretending what it would be like if I managed to win you. Not that I entertained the thought very often. I'm too practical, and you never seemed very interested."

He scoffed softly but didn't deny it, so Keeta continued, "But . . . well, you know what my biggest insecurity has always been. I just figured things would be fine if you were ever able to overlook our size discrepancy, and then you finally _did_ seem able to overlook it, but that was right about the same time as what happened in Ellesméra, and _that_ made me realize that whether we could overlook it or not, it might still be a real consideration—"

"I hope you're not thinking about Alanna right now."

"No, I remember your reassurances. I know why that happened, and you've told me you didn't want it. Never mind that it's still hard for me to imagine you feeling that same level of desire for me. That's not my point. I'm sorry I'm rambling so much, but I don't know how to express this. I've had a lot of time to think about this the past few days—you talked a lot in your sleep and told me you love me more than once—and I really think I might be too small for you where . . . physical intimacy is concerned. Maybe there's a reason the only other two relationships we know of between our races were with a female elf and male dwarf. As far as, you know, _this_ goes, such a pairing would be more feasible."

Her hands escaped. She quickly tucked her hair behind her ears then stubbornly folded them in her lap, peeking up at Nefin's face. "There. I got it out." Keeta was relieved to see that he took her seriously.

"Do you think I would hurt you?"

Keeta swallowed. "I don't know. Definitely not on purpose. I mean, what if . . ." She looked away again. "What if you can't even . . .? I'm so embarrassed even suggesting it. I don't know how to talk about this with you, so maybe I'm not ready yet. To marry you." The last came out as a whisper, though she didn't intend it.

"We've talked about hard things before, Keeta. And marriage would undoubtedly bring many more difficult discussions. I understand where you're coming from. It's a valid concern, but I honestly don't know that it would be a problem. I've seen dwarf babies and trust me, the smallest dwarven infant I've ever seen was still far larger than . . . the part of me you're worried about. And dwarven women—like you—are able to give birth to those babies in the usual manner."

Heat flooded her cheeks, but Keeta persisted, "Yes, well we have wide hips, but—"

Nefin placed his hands on either of her hips, which completely derailed Keeta's train of thought. "You're the image of physical perfection for a female dwarf, Keeta. You have a beautiful figure. So unlike an elf."

"Um . . . thanks, I guess? But what I was getting at is Brin told me what her first time with Brom was like. She was really fertile, and it still bordered on painful. You and Brom are the same height, but Brin is like two feet taller than I am! I'm like a little child compared to you. The size of an eight-year-old elven girl."

Keeta doubted she could have looked at Nefin right then if her life depended on it, but she heard the exasperation in his voice as he disagreed, "It doesn't matter how tall you are, Keeta! You aren't a little child! Yes, you're shorter than I am, but that's because you're a dwarf and I'm an elf. No female elf—young or old—has ever had hips like this." He slid his hands up—along her waist, over her ribs—and stopped when they reached her chest. "Or a bosom like this."

His actions startled her more than a little. She peeped at his face in confusion, and he quickly removed his hands while apologizing, "Sorry, Keeta. I know I shouldn't touch you like that, but how else can I convince you? Not only that I want you so much I can barely breathe when I think about it, but that I think we'd be fine? How else would we know unless we tried? Should we just try?"

Keeta's astonishment rendered her momentarily speechless. Then she squeaked, "Before we're married?" She cleared her throat in mortification.

"You know I don't actually want to, but what else would convince you?"

Of course he didn't want to. Keeta could believe that, but not his claim about barely being able to breathe.

To answer his query, Keeta shrugged uncertainly. She was unsure if anything short of what he suggested would ever convince her that an intimate relationship between them would work because she still doubted that Nefin found her desirable. _Then why would he touch you like that?_

She didn't have time to argue with herself before Nefin gently asked, "Can you not imagine us doing that? We don't have to get married, Keeta."

She worriedly regarded him. They had already been over this, but Keeta couldn't seem to get over it. She had _tried_ to imagine doing what Nefin referred to, and the memory of him and Alanna always interfered. As much as she had hated seeing it, Alanna seemed perfect in his arms. She _fit_ him. Keeta had always felt even more inferior ever since. Small and insignificant compared to him.

"You _are_ still thinking about Alanna," he quietly stated, reading the truth in her eyes.

"I'm sorry. I can't help it. Size-wise, she was perfect for you. I'm not. And I know you don't care, but as hard as I've tried, I always feel ridiculous thinking about doing that together. I know I'd be awkward and self-conscious."

"But other than that, do you want to marry me?" Nefin insisted, not giving up yet. For which Keeta was grateful.

"Yes," she whispered. "I really do. I love you, Nefin."

Nefin closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall, releasing a long, relieved breath. It was easier to look at him like that, and Keeta was surprised again to see tears pooling at the corners of his eyes.

"Then don't worry about anything else," Nefin said, using one thin hand to reach up and swipe away the tears. "If we never make love, fine by me. But I just don't want any more regrets. The worst part about thinking I was going to die was that I'd never had the chance to tell you aloud how I really feel. To tell you that you're my best friend and I want to see your face every morning when I wake up for the rest of my life." He tilted his face down to look at her, pale blue eyes pleading and intense.

Keeta didn't know how to respond to that, maybe because it was so sweet that it took her breath away. While the sensible part of her mind reprimanded herself for being so fanciful, Nefin took her left hand and slid the ring on her third finger.

"Perfect fit," he approved. "Like Rhunön predicted. Can we get married now? Then I need to eat. We can consider it our wedding feast."

An incredulous little grin twitched her lips. _So we'll never make love and just be married best friends? If that's what you want, Nefin-elda._ "Sounds good. All of the above."

Nefin's gorgeous smile graced his face, and he gave her a tight embrace. "I won't stop you again this time if you try to get Hanna."

Keeta breathed a small laugh as she hopped up to open the door.

Within seconds of calling for her, Hanna rushed into the room, closely followed by Ajh. Her joy upon seeing Nefin awake equaled her sorrow on learning of Zadí's death, and she immediately began attending to him.

Nefin gratefully submitted to her every ministration and placed a detailed order with Ajh of food he most wished to eat. Ajh left right away to begin preparations for the wedding feast.

Hanna demanded to hear all about the proposal, but Nefin joked that she'd probably rather not hear _all_ of the details. "It was hard work," he explained with a wink at Keeta.

They patiently waited until Hanna was finished and as all of their friends—minus Var, who stayed on deck to sail the ship and for other obvious reasons—crammed into the room to visit with Nefin. He requested they simply stay for the ceremony, which Brom agreed to perform, just as he had three other times during their travels.

And so, with no fanfare or fuss, Nefin and Keeta got married.

Ajh, in particular, seemed relieved that Nefin was back to joke around with—heavens knew they had needed more of that lately—and he grandly proclaimed that his gift to the new couple would be dinner in bed, while all of the rest of them enjoyed the meal _else_ where. Before Keeta would have thought possible, he and Hanna carted in an amazing assortment of scrumptious looking and smelling dishes.

Nefin unapologetically began eating as their friends milled about, all seeming glad for such a happy occasion to lighten their somber mood. Everyone benefitted from Nefin's recovery and good cheer, but eventually his and Keeta's guests left them alone again.

Nefin could only eat a small amount at first, so he subsequently spent much of the rest of the evening snacking on the food Ajh left for them.

With her deep worry over Nefin now alleviated, Keeta ate more heartily than at any other meal of the previous five days. But she slowed down before he did, and she happily snuggled beside him as he continued enjoying Ajh's specialties. They played her favorite dice game on a smooth section of the bedspread, chatting about their families at home on the Isle. Nefin appreciated her account of his father's accident and accelerated aging, which she told with the same bravado and humor that Hanin had.

After downing _another_ glass of water, Nefin belched with his mouth closed and turned his head away as he apologized, "Sorry, Keeta. Where are my elven manners?"

Keeta giggled drowsily from her comfortable location. "If you think I'm offended by that, you should live with my father for a few days. Dwarven men seem to think the louder they can make air pass from either end, the manlier they are. But it always just makes me laugh. I'm actually not too bad myself. If you can get over your stuffy sense of propriety, we should have a competition sometime."

Nefin chuckled appreciatively. "I might take you up on that. It's going to be fun being married, Keeta. Thank you for being my friend, for always being real, through all those years that I was such a dimwitted fool."

Her soft laugh came out more like, "Hm." Then she added, "Sorry I'm so tired."

"That's good. We should stop playing now while I'm ahead. Might be the closest I ever get to winning." He collected all the dice and moved everything else from their game and dinner to the bedside table.

"And I might actually get some sleep tonight," Keeta murmured. "No need to dream when mine all just came true."

Nefin smiled down at her and kissed her forehead, pulling her closer as her eyelids drooped shut.

-:-:-:-

* * *

 **A/N:** Another week has gone by and here's a new chapter. I once again have a few guest readers to respond to. Let me preface this with a sincere request for guests who ask questions in their reviews to please create fanfiction accounts and leave reviews as a site member. Then I can PM you a more detailed reply and not burden everyone else with these Author's Notes.

Ok, so Mr. Dreadful. I'm sorry Zadí's death troubled you so deeply. I agree that Var's current emotional state is sad. Maybe you didn't read the HUGE A/N at the end of that chapter, but I tried to explain that I didn't _want_ her to die. I certainly don't feel like _I_ killed her. The man with the long knife in the story killed her. If she hadn't made her choice, Brom would have died and then all of the protagonists would have followed him. Would that have been any better? Game over, right there.

"But," you may argue, "you could have simply written it so no one got around Brin and Brom was never in any danger." True, I could have. However, inasmuch as a story with magic can be realistic, I want my stories to be realistic. And the fact that nine of those ten kids survived a battle against over 120 _magicians_ is already pushing the boundaries of reality. In addition, as I tried to explain, I didn't want to betray my characters or infringe on their choices by being the all-powerful author.

I'm not going to give away what's coming up, but let me just warn you that the hard stuff isn't over. At the same time, let me reassure you that I want a happy ending as much as anyone. Though we have more trials to endure, the story will end well (in my opinion). You just need to bear with me to that point. I'm not going to rush things for the audience's sake. Nor will I write or post an alternative story wherein nothing bad happens. Doing so would spoil the beautiful resolution in my mind and would also cut into the precious little time I have to finish this story.

As always, thanks for reading. Please review if you enjoyed this chapter. And if you didn't, review and tell me that! I LOVE reader feedback! ~Autumn :)


	124. Part III 25 Swift paw's Secrets

**25\. Swiftpaw's Secrets**

Nefin quickly recovered in the following days thanks to Hanna's devoted care and Ajh's fine cooking. His wish of seeing Keeta's face first thing every morning was better than he could have imagined, and he set a goal to make her smile or laugh before getting out of bed each day. He almost always succeeded and it truly wasn't much of a challenge, for she usually smiled at him as soon as he smiled at her.

They fell into life as a married pair as smoothly as the other two couples, aside from the minor detail of no physical intimacy. But Nefin didn't care because he got to watch her fall asleep every night just the same.

Several weeks went by as the youth sailed south along Alagaёsia's western coast. Nefin was never overly lighthearted or silly—one look at Var was all it took to feel sad about Zadí—but he couldn't help being cheerful. He was alive, Keeta was his wife, and they were on their way home. And now that Will had Lena back, he definitely helped more as he once had.

No one wanted to talk about it, but Nefin picked up on Keeta's concern that they would run out of supplies before reaching home. In fact, that truth was unavoidable. She had already told him that they simply hadn't been able to buy enough in Narda for the entire journey because there wasn't enough available. So they all knew they would need to make a stop for more before reaching the ocean south of the Beors.

But they bypassed Feinster and Aroughs before Keeta finally insisted on discussing the situation as a group. Six weeks after leaving Narda, she called everyone together on the main deck and directly began: "We're going to run out of food before we reach the Isle. We'll starve unless the elves and Brom think of a way to get us food or we stop in Reavstone to stock up. It's the last port city before we reach the mountain range, and sailing around the eastern wilderness last time took us two and a half months. We can't just ignore this because we don't want to talk about the Shade or Lethrblaka."

Everyone looked at Brom, who sighed and halfheartedly began, "I know we could catch fish and birds—"

But Ajh interjected, "Two and a half months of eating only fish and birds wouldn't provide us with proper nutrition. And we won't even have grain for sprouting. Keeta's right. We need to stop."

Brom nodded. "Yes, I think we all knew this, and Keeta's also right that we can't ignore the unpleasant possibilities we might face."

Nefin gave his wife a proud smile, and she distractedly returned it before again focusing on Brom. "So let's plan. Have you sensed anything that would suggest they're following or waiting for us?"

"No," Brom replied. "But I couldn't detect the Ra'zac even if I wanted to and the Shade might also be disguising herself somehow. I wouldn't put it past her. If I learned to do it, I suppose any magician could with the right focus."

"Have you probed the minds of people along the coast?" Ajh wondered. "Surely any sightings of these fiends would be foremost in their thoughts."

"As much as I hate doing it, I _have_ searched the minds of the coastal residents," Brom affirmed. "And no one has so much as heard a whisper of the Ra'zac this far south."

"So they're staying hidden," Nefin stated. "And I haven't noticed any spies like that raven before. Perhaps a scrying session is in order. We should find out if our parents have contacted any of Alagaësia's leaders recently."

"Spells like that are detectable by magicians," Brom warned. "I've obviously shielded all of my spying from outside observations, but something like scrying goes beyond such measures."

"If scrying is out, we just need to come up with a plan," Keeta repeated. "Then we'll be fine."

"Even if the Shade, two Ra'zac, and two Lethrblaka are waiting for us?" Lena doubtfully questioned.

"Maybe 'fine' wasn't the best choice of words," Keeta allowed. "That's the worst-case scenario, but if we prepare for that, we'll do far better than if we glibly sail into port not expecting anything to go wrong."

"True," Lena reluctantly granted. "So how do we plan for that? What are our priorities?"

"Should we maybe include Iduna and Nёya in this conversation?" Hanna tentatively suggested.

"Good idea," Brom approved. "And they are two of our highest priorities. Protecting them, that is. Along with Bid'Daum. Would you go invite them up, Hanna? Out of all of us, they seem most amenable to you."

Which was true. As the politest, most deferential of the young people, the elven Caretakers most approved of Hanna. She disappeared below deck to fulfill her task.

"They like you quite a lot too," Keeta dryly reminded Nefin while they waited, and he grinned.

"I don't know why," he returned, squatting down beside her and putting his arm around her shoulders.

"Yes, it's such a mystery," his wife indulgently finished. "Can't possibly imagine why."

Nefin kissed her cheek just as Hanna slowly reappeared, helping Nёya up the ladder. Brom went over to likewise aid Iduna. In all the activity surrounding the hatch, almost no one noticed Swiftpaw slink onboard and curl up in a sunny patch on the far side of the long boat. But Nefin saw her and was somewhat surprised. The werecat never appeared on the main deck, and he began to wonder why she had today.

In fact, he only knew she was traveling with them because he constantly used his mind to scout for threats and was therefore aware of every mental presence on the ship. But he had been unconscious when they left Vroengard and all throughout their brief time in Narda, and Swiftpaw never joined them for any daily activities. Nefin knew Lena took her food, but that was all. The situation was puzzling.

When the three female elves had all emerged and joined the people sitting or standing on the main deck, Brom quickly explained to the elven sisters why he had summoned them. He finished by respectfully asking, "Do either of you have any insight on how we should prepare for a stop in Reavstone?"

Iduna replied, "Bid'Daum, my sister, and I must remain hidden. You, son of Eragon, would do well to mask our presence as fully as possible using your unique magical skills. If this party does encounter the Shade, we fear she will target us and Bid'Daum. We are dispensable in her mind, meaning she would surely kill us if she had the chance, but Bid'Daum she would endeavor to steal. Our objective is to restore the Dragon Rider pact, whereas hers is the very opposite."

"Well said," Brom agreed, and Iduna smiled. Nefin did too. No doubt about it, the ancient twin sisters had favorites. Brom, Hanna, and himself. Possibly because all three looked like or were elves. The Caretakers also seemed enchanted by the idea that Brom's father bore the name Eragon after the first Dragon Rider, which made Nefin secretly wonder if one of the sisters might have had more of a relationship with the first Rider than that of mere acquaintance. He stopped silently speculating when Brom added, "I shall do just as you recommend."

"Do you further require our presence?" Nёya queried.

"We would welcome any guidance you have," Brom responded. "But if that is all, we can decide other details once you are comfortably resting again."

"I advise you to divide up when you reach the port," Nёya contributed. "Expect that the Shade will be waiting. If she is, she will attempt to destroy your means of returning home—this ship—and will search for us, as Iduna said. So leave the most skilled fighters with the ship and send only a few for supplies."

"That is sound counsel. Thank you for your wisdom. I'll help you return to your quarters." Brom extended his arm to Nёya as Iduna pointedly regarded Nefin.

Catching on to her desire, Nefin swiftly arose and went to her, offering his arm as Brom had. She linked hers through, and they waited by the hatch while Brom assisted Nёya down the ladder. Nefin copied him once the way was clear, turning to wink at Keeta as he did. He grinned again when he caught her exchanging a meaningful smile with Brin. Both girls found the old women's fascination with their husbands humorous.

As soon as the Caretakers were settled—they had refused to consider hammocks, so Brom had magically built them simple beds—Nefin and Brom headed back to their friends.

 _They definitely like you better today,_ Nefin mentally joked.

 _I sometimes wonder if they can even tell us apart_ , Brom rejoined, smiling. _Haven't they called you 'son of Eragon' too?_

Nefin laughed. _Maybe. I wonder if the first Eragon had black hair and light eyes. But they have benefitted far more from_ your _unique magical skills._

Brom just shook his head in amusement and returned to Brin's side once they were on deck. As Nefin sat by Keeta, Brom said aloud, "Does anyone disagree with the Caretakers' assessment?"

"I don't disagree," Will supplied, "but I _would_ add something. Lena is also in danger and should stay hidden with the Caretakers."

Nefin felt a thoughtful expression crease his brow. More than once in the time since his recovery, he had sensed the other two couples hiding knowledge about an important subject. But they never brought it up and he never asked. Will's statement was the solidest evidence he had yet observed to support his suspicions.

"Yes," Brom said. "Lena still has an important role to play in restoring the Dragon Riders. And I suppose Keeta, Hanna, and Ajh should be the few to go after supplies. Right?"

"That's right," Keeta agreed. "From our preparations last year, we know best what to get. Var, Brin, and I even visited Reavstone. It's a lovely city, and I already know right where I'll need to go."

"But you and Ajh are good fighters," Nefin pointed out.

"Lena can't go," Will reasoned, "and Hanna shouldn't go alone. If those three stay together, they can watch each other's backs."

"I hate to interrupt," the young girl form of Swiftpaw said, doing just that. "But I might be of some use in this conversation. May I share my input?"

Nefin watched the young girl gracefully approach the group, just as her werecat form would have, and couldn't help feeling distrustful. After all, Tenga had used the cat as a key element in his plot of overthrowing the Riders by spying on the royal family in Ilirea.

"But of course!" Lena exclaimed.

As if Swiftpaw had heard his misgivings, she briefly turned an eye on Nefin before saying, "I often stay hidden below deck and I know some of you have noticed, so I will explain why right now. Before Tenga implemented his plan, he kidnapped me from Alagaësia. Not all of his followers were aware, but Trianna was. I remember her as a particularly gifted, ambitious sorceress."

She paused and sat beside Lena, looking very vulnerable as she pulled her legs up and wrapped her arms around her knees. Then she went on, "The ability we werecats have to telepathically communicate with any member of our race is well hidden, but some few have discovered this gift and exploited it, as Tenga did. He all but forgot about me down in the Vault of Souls, and I would have died if not for Lena. I hoped this Shade would also have forgotten me, but in case she did remember, I did not want to become a liability. If I am unaware of what is happening around me, no one can wrest that information from my mind by torturing a werecat somewhere else. So I have stayed uninvolved in your daily activities."

The young girl who actually wasn't young at all sighed and slowly continued, "But just because I have been hiding doesn't mean I can't use my ability to learn information from other werecats, and I have been doing plenty of that. When I heard Hanna come down for the elven twins to discuss stopping in Reavstone, I knew the time had come to share what I know."

Not a sound issued forth from the group as they waited with baited breath for Swiftpaw to reveal her secrets. _Of course!_ Nefin thought. _Why haven't we thought to consult her before! But now I know the reason. Shame on me for doubting her._

"The Shade, Ra'zac, and Lethrblaka are indeed following you," the werecat solemnly proclaimed. "Not directly behind, of course, but along the coast. A werecat in Narda reported seeing the Shade interrogate the people who sold us the ship and supplies. She surely deduced that we would run out and need to restock. Not long after her stop in Narda, she sought out the Lethrblaka and Ra'zac, who were randomly roaming the land and killing man and beast alike for food." She took a breath and added, "As a side note, you might like to know that both Lethrblaka are male, which means they will not be able to breed. An obscure werecat living in the Spine learned that detail not long after the Shade found and recruited them. The two Ra'zac and two Lethrblaka are very keen to see the Shade succeed at defeating you. If the one female Ra'zac can survive to her twentieth year, then they will have a chance to make a comeback in Alagaësia."

"But are they the only four?" Lena breathlessly asked, apparently unaware she was even holding her breath.

"Yes, Lena," Swiftpaw confirmed. "They were reluctant to join the Shade because her plan involves confronting you and they have a healthy fear of Dragon Riders after what Brom's father did with the previous four members of their race. But the Shade is confident in her plan and assured them their success, along with a promise of as much human flesh as they could ever desire."

Lena shuddered. "Oh dear. Sorry to interrupt, Swiftpaw. Please go on."

"I do not know all of the details of the Shade's strategy, but I do know she has been following and intends to confront you. They travel at night and kill any humans who happen to see them."

"Which explains why I haven't sensed any knowledge of them from the coastal residents," Brom dryly commented.

"Indeed, young man," Swiftpaw agreed. "I am sorry my information is not sounder, but the werecats are very secretive and have a particular hatred for Ra'zac and Lethrblaka. They do not eagerly seek out the dark ones. What I know is from my kin who have only unintentionally crossed paths with these terrors, and they often swiftly run the other direction instead of remaining to learn more."

"What you _have_ shared is invaluable," Will fervently said, and Swiftpaw smiled up at him. Just as the elven Caretakers had their favorites, so too did the werecat. Lena, obviously. And Will, by extension.

"Yes," Brom seconded, just as sincerely. "Now at least we can plan on seeing the Shade and her four friends in Reavstone."

"I have one other skill to offer and a request to make," the young girl Swiftpaw said. "I can sense the mental presence of Ra'zac and Lethrblaka. Their masking does not work with members of my race as it does with the two-legged species. Werecats consider themselves four-legged sentient beings, as do the dragons. At any rate, I may be able to help you identify their whereabouts when you arrive. Beyond that, I can offer no magical assistance."

"That would be extremely helpful," Brom accepted. "And your request?"

"I would be a part of this battle. From the beginning. I think it is safe to say that the Shade does not remember me and so any wards she may cast will most likely not include defense against an attacking werecat. I have taken my revenge on Tenga, but I desire to play my part in restoring the Dragon Riders."

"Absolutely," Will immediately permitted. "You were amazing on Vroengard. We can use every fighter we have."

Swiftpaw nodded her head and transformed back into her cat form before prowling back to her patch of sun. Lena absently picked up the small dress she had worn and folded it, as if accustomed to the actions from prior habit. Nefin assumed she would return it to her feline friend once their discussion ended.

Brom ran his hands through his hair and slowly exhaled, apparently at a momentary loss for words.

In the silence, Var unexpectedly contributed, "If there might be fighting at the ship, I'll stay here. To be with Zadí."

Everyone looked over to where Var was tying off sails, and Nefin knew he wasn't the only one to understand Var's true meaning. He wanted—and would most likely _try_ —to get himself mortally wounded during this confrontation so he could die and be with Zadí.

Will frowned as he looked away from his twin. "I'll stay too. Make sure Lena stays safe."

"And Brom and I obviously will," Brin added. "Face the Shade as a team."

Brom glanced sideways at his wife with some concern. She was so tall that her pregnancy still didn't show, but Nefin knew Brom worried about Brin. Just as Will worried for Lena and he worried for Keeta.

"Can I go with Keeta?" Nefin requested.

Brom uncertainly regarded him. "I think we'd need your help to fight. Your arrows would be particularly helpful in fighting two winged creatures."

"What if they don't come after the boat?" Nefin said. "They hate water."

"Too many ifs," Hanna fretted. "One thing's for sure: I'm protecting every single one of you with every ward I know before going onshore."

"Not me or Keeta," Nefin differed. "I will."

"And not me or Brin," Brom echoed. "We have plenty of stones to borrow from, but we should save most of that for me to use as I face Trianna. I'm sure they'll have wards too. It will be up to me to remove them so they can be killed." He looked at Will. "How long before we get to Reavstone?"

Will shrugged. "A couple days. Don't you think, Var?"

Var curtly nodded without looking away from his task.

"Have we planned well enough, Keeta?" Ajh asked.

"I guess so. Without knowing exactly what will happen."

"Then let's go eat," Ajh proposed, and everyone gradually followed him down to the galley for a somber meal.


	125. Part III 26 Nothing to Fear

**26\. Nothing to Fear**

After dinner, Nefin and Keeta retired to their small room while the others also dispersed in various directions. They had already attended to their nighttime needs in the privy, so they stood on either side of the bed they shared. Usually they both climbed in fully clothed, cuddling together and talking until she fell asleep.

But tonight Nefin broke the pattern by asking, "Mind if I take off my shirt tonight? Only because it's getting so hot this far south this close to summer."

"Sure," she skeptically permitted with a knowing smile. "You wouldn't ever consider an ulterior motive."

"Nope," he agreed, also smiling as he pulled off his shirt. "I wouldn't. Ever."

Keeta's smile slowly melted away. She perched on the edge of the bed, pulling one leg under her and biting her lip.

"What's wrong?" Nefin asked in concern, sitting down next to her.

Keeta took a deep breath and ran one hand through her short hair. "What you just said reminded me. When you were unconscious, you often spoke in your sleep. I guess you were having nightmares, but you repeated one phrase over and over. It went like this, 'No. I wouldn't. Ever. I love her. I love you, Keeta.' What does it mean, Nefin? What were you dreaming about?"

Nefin felt his face fall. He hadn't planned on ever telling Keeta about what had happened in the maze when he walked into the mist. "I'd really rather not talk about that," he quietly replied, hearing the pleading in his voice.

But she responded with a plea of her own. "Please tell me. You can trust me."

"I do trust you, but I'm afraid to talk about it."

"Why?" she implored, grabbing his hand. "Please?"

So Nefin reluctantly relented, "The mist in that maze showed me a vision of you. First you were naked and we were married. Then you were dead. I had killed you. By slitting your throat. And there was a baby beside you drowning in your blood."

Keeta raised her eyebrows in shock and shuddered. "How awful. I'm so sorry you had to see that. We need to stop this Shade so she can't create anymore nightmares like that. I know you would never do such a thing."

Nefin shook his head, feeling the same ache in his heart that he did every night. It grew stronger the closer they got to Reavstone and another potentially life-threatening situation. In spite of his vow that he didn't care if they ever made love, they had now been married nearly six weeks and Nefin was more in love with his wife every day. His desire for her was made even more burdensome by the stifling weight of regret—a feeling he didn't want any more experience with than he already had. What if one of them died and they still hadn't?

He had made a firm decision to leave the matter in Keeta's hands. And because she never brought it up or made any advances, Nefin assumed she still felt the same concern over their size difference as she had on their wedding day.

He focused on Keeta when she raised her hand to his face and gently stroked his cheek. "I'm glad you've recovered so well. Your tan skin is so beautiful. I was so worried when the poison made you so pale."

Nefin took her hand and kissed the back of it before lowering it to his lap. "But you just get these adorable little freckles when you spend a lot of time in the sun," he said, smiling feebly as he lifted his other hand and brushed her cheek with a fingertip. Thinking about the maze, the Shade, and his unfulfilled yearning had completely squelched his lighthearted mood and his secret hope that her playful manner might lead to something more interesting that night.

"Short hair. Freckles. I'm the cute kid sister."

 _Not this again_ , Nefin begged. "You're beautiful, Keeta. You know it, and you know how much I adore you. As my _wife._ Don't start with that other nonsense."

Keeta clearly sensed the change in his emotions. She silently waited for him to scoot back next to the wall before crawling over and leaning into his side. Her eyes admiringly lingered on his bare torso until her face was resting against it. When she looked at him like that, Nefin knew she was attracted to him in a romantic way, but she never said or did anything beyond visual admiration.

As he extinguished the Erisdar, Nefin wrapped his arms around her and pressed his nose against her head, inhaling the sweet smell he loved. Her silky golden hair shimmered like starlight in his night vision, and another tickle of longing clenched his gut. He began humming as his heart hammered in his chest.

He wondered whether Keeta would ever notice the connection when she asked, "Why do you always start humming right after your heart rate increases?"

Nefin smiled in the darkness. Of course she had noticed. "To distract myself."

"From what?"

"How much I want you."

Keeta snorted softly, and he was sure he could feel her eyes roll. "Good one, Nefin-elda." And she said no more.

Nefin's heart now increased its pace for an entirely different reason as he considered this alarming possibility. Did Keeta _really_ not believe him? Surely she couldn't think that he didn't want her in that way. But maybe she actually did. In spite of his many claims and reassurances, she had always said she didn't believe he found her desirable in the same way he had _seemed_ to desire Alanna. And if this was true, it explained why she never said or did anything suggestive. What if they each thought the other wasn't ready and that was why they hesitated?

He was about to say something when an unexpected physiological response from Keeta made him pause. Not only did her heart speed up in its familiar and endearing way, but Nefin felt a warm flush crawl all over her skin—through her clothing—and her cheek burned his chest. _What does_ that _mean?_ he wondered. _Maybe she really does feel the same as I do._

"Uh," she stammered, sitting away from him. He loosened his arms in confusion. "I . . . I know what you mean about it getting hotter. Mind if I copy you?"

"In what manner?" _Please be reading my mind_.

"By taking off my shirt. Just my top shirt. I'll still have my undershirt and . . . everything else on." She blushed again.

"Can I watch?"

"Um, can you see? Obviously. Then, sure. Why not?" Keeta tried to sound nonchalant and didn't quite succeed. "Mind if I ask why?"

Nefin scoffed incredulously. "So I can fantasize about all the rest."

A nervous giggle. Then, "I'm glad I can't see you like you can see me." She reached the last button of her shirt and shrugged out of it, automatically folding it and setting it on the bedside table.

Nefin laughed out loud. Even in a moment like this, Keeta couldn't help being organized. Almost everyone else he could think of would have thoughtlessly tossed the shirt on the floor.

"What's so funny?" she defensively demanded.

He comfortingly raised his hands to her shoulders—swallowing hard at the feel of her bare skin—and explained, "I just like how you so neatly folded your shirt. It's so you, Keeta. And I love you."

Keeta twittered nervously again. "Um, all right. All done." She tucked her short hair behind her ears and attempted to lean back into him, but Nefin held her in place, admiring her perfect hourglass figure.

"Remember your first archery lesson? How I was measuring you? And I just stared at your bosom for a few moments?"

"Uh, yes?" she answered in a drawn out way, raising her voice questioningly at the end.

"At first I was just trying to decide whether it would affect the measurement. But then I realized how _nice_ it was to look at. Don't ask me why—I really don't know—but that part of a female makes a male brain turn to mush."

"Then why am I the one acting like my brain has turned to mush?" she muttered. "I can't even see you."

Nefin quietly chuckled and spoke the words to dimly light the Erisdar. "Here I am."

Keeta stared at his face, and he recognized the usual emotions: insecurity and admiration.

He sighed and rested his head against the wall, gazing up at the ceiling. "Keeta, I can see it in your eyes every time you look at me. It's like you think I'm some divine being while you're a worthless beggar. Don't you remember that I was the one begging you to marry me? Have you forgotten that we _are_ actually married?" He studied her for a moment and cautiously asked, "Can I touch you for a second like a man would his wife?"

She gaped at him wide-eyed and didn't answer.

"I promise I'll only touch, but I want to try to . . . prove how I feel. Prove that I . . . want you."

Keeta dipped her head once, perhaps not trusting herself to speak.

For all the times he'd imagined doing this, Nefin suddenly didn't know how to proceed. So he started by dropping his eyes back to her torso, only now Keeta could see him admiring her. Compact muscles defined her arms, shoulders, and upper chest under her collarbone, which was bare above the low neckline of her thin sleeveless undershirt. The shirt also revealed the lines of her supportive undergarment, and he moved his hands away from her shoulders to trace over them.

Despite the snug fit of her underclothing, his light touch raised every curve of her bosom. He trailed his fingers down, feeling Keeta shiver as goosebumps appeared on her skin. Nefin wanted so much to continue, wanted to remove the shirt and everything else between them, wanted to feel, and smell, and taste. . . .

But he knew the longer he waited, the harder it would be to stop. So he sadly lowered his hands and desperately gazed at her. Her shapely hips flowed up into her slender waist, which once again swooped out into her full—

A single crystal tear fell between them, interrupting his ogling.

Nefin quickly returned his eyes to her face, clenching his jaw as he struggled to breathe properly. "See what I mean about not being able to breathe?" He exhaled heavily while carefully brushing the tears from her cheeks. "Sorry I made you cry. I didn't do a very good job proving myself."

Keeta shook her head and faintly said, "I can't figure you out. First you said you didn't want to make love. Then you said you want me. I didn't think I'd ever believe you, but I can see it's true when you look at me and touch me like that. So . . ."

Nefin felt his eyes widen. "I never said that!" he insisted. "The first part. I said, 'If we never make love, fine by me,' because you seemed so concerned about it. But I never said I didn't want to. I definitely want to!"

"But when you asked if we should just try and then I asked, 'Before we're married?', you said you didn't actually want to—"

"No! No, I only meant I didn't actually want to before we were married! Because I wanted to respect you. Keeta! Please!" He groaned in exasperation, rubbing his temples with one hand. "Please believe me. I _want_ to _make love_ with you. All this time have you thought I don't?"

A sheepish expression crossed her face, and she hunched her shoulders forward. He knew she was completely unaware of what the position did to her chest, but Nefin couldn't ignore how it deepened the hollow behind her collarbone or the cleavage visible above her shirt. He forced himself to focus as she said, "I guess so. It's the only explanation I could come up with for you saying that and then never acting interested afterwards."

Nefin disbelievingly shook his head. "All this time and it was just a misunderstanding. I think I lied anyway. I would obviously never force you, but it _won't_ be fine with me if we never make love. Every day we don't it will be harder. I love being married and talking every night and watching you fall asleep and seeing your face first thing every morning, but I want more. Just then my desire to . . . _experience_ you was overwhelming. Painful. I didn't even know such longing was possible."

"Me neither," Keeta admitted. "I'm so glad I misunderstood and that you cleared up my confusion. The past few weeks being married have given me more time to imagine us . . . um, making love. And I can now."

Her whole demeanor changed as she shifted forward and slid one leg over his lap until she sat astride him. Using both hands, she pulled her undershirt off in a fluid motion and flung it on the floor with a defiant smirk at him. "I've been thinking a lot about what you said before we got married. About having regrets. Well, I don't want any, and I would regret it if I died without making love to the most beautiful man alive."

She must have seen that he was getting ready to say something cheeky, for she placed a finger over his lips and finished, "Who also happens to be my husband."

Her eyes flashed as she flicked the straps of her undergarment off her shoulders. "Do you want to try your hand at removing it?" she impishly invited. "Or should we trust my expertise this time?"

"Let me," Nefin eagerly accepted, feeling an appreciative grin cover his face. _This time? That sounds promising._ He sat fully upright and slid his hands along her waist, around to her back, where the same hard muscles lined her body. "I can't believe how muscular you are! No wonder you can throw an axe farther than I can!"

She smiled smugly and pressed into him. "Take it off," she ordered, inhaling deeply with her nose against his neck.

He fumbled with the clasps for a moment but finally succeeded in fulfilling her . . . command? Nefin grinned again as Keeta pulled back to kiss him, interrupting her attentions only long enough to mutter the spell that would create a sound barrier around their room.

-:-:-

A while later, Nefin and Keeta snuggled together on their bed, arms around one another.

"That wasn't so bad, now was it?" Nefin wondered, brushing her hair off her cheek.

Keeta shook her head, smiling faintly. "I had nothing to fear."

"You know," he offhandedly commented, "you once told me I have enough good looks to spread between ten males. Well, you have enough breasts to share with ten females. Why were we so unfairly endowed?"

"Oh please," she laughed. "I'm not that huge."

"The evidence is clearly before me," Nefin disagreed in a playfully supercilious tone. "Better share with ten elf women, who will never even come close to rivaling your buxom perfection. Will you ever again doubt that I want you?"

"Nope," she denied, somewhat self-consciously.

"You'd better not be feeling insecure," Nefin warned.

"You left no doubt in my mind, Nefin-elda. I'm glad you like my dwarven figure. Short, compact, and full-chested."

"Good things come in small packages. Thank you, Keeta. I love you."

"I know," she confidently replied before kissing him one last time. She nestled her face into his neck, and they fell asleep together for the first time as husband and wife.

-:-:-:-

* * *

 **A/N:** I was thinking about how different this story is from _The Cycle Continues._ Not only did I not spend six weeks writing about their honeymoon, they didn't even have sex for six weeks! Some of you probably breathed a sigh of relief. :) I didn't even feel the need to put a warning at the top of this one about a mature love scene. See, Timskalf? Even _I_ can change and improve in my writing. ;)

Anyway, I originally had this scene tacked onto the end of Chapter 25. Swiftpaw's Secrets (sorry the fanfiction site is doing something weird with that title) because it was later that same night and still from Nefin's perspective. However, after adding everything I wanted to each chapter, they were long enough to stand alone and they are both about something entirely different, so I separated them.


	126. Part III 27 Visions

**27\. Visions**

The morning they expected to reach Reavstone, Will woke up after a strange dream. Tears uncharacteristically filled his eyes and overflowed toward his ears. Since Lena was snuggled next to him and still fast asleep, he remained in bed, solidifying the details of the vision so he could remember them to write down.

Both he and Var had learned to be quite stoic when it came to emotional things, just as their father and most Urgal rams. So although Will hadn't really let on how deeply Var's suffering was affecting him, it still was. And what bothered him the most was his brother's obvious desire to get himself killed.

Will thought he could understand why Var felt that way. After all, he would probably want to die if something took Lena from him. However, he was learning from his twin that even a loss as devastating as what Var was going through shouldn't be a reason to recklessly end one's life.

Will hated thinking about how hard it would be if Var died. He didn't know if he could say goodbye to his identical copy and best friend. Var had always been better at letting go and moving on. Maybe that was why Will's dream had visited him. Until now, he hadn't been able to think of a way to help his brother.

He suppressed a heavy sigh. That didn't mean it would be easy for anyone. But never mind. No need to dwell on it. Perhaps such an extreme solution wouldn't even be necessary.

Will was glad when Lena's tears began wetting his chest because it meant he could focus on her and push the dismal speculations from his mind. He studied her perfect face, worried she might be having another nightmare. But she wasn't shivering, nor had she cried out, so maybe not. And she looked peaceful, almost divine. Then why was she crying?

Will's heart skipped a beat when she suddenly awoke with a gasp. She lifted her head, eyelids fluttering as she struggled to reach full awareness.

"Lena," he whispered, hoping to help her.

She fixed her eyes on his face, and they were dazed, disappointed, relieved. He couldn't make sense of her emotions.

"Will?" she mumbled in confusion. "You're still here? But you were just in my dream. It was so sad, but so beautiful at the same time. I can't remember it very well. Everything is so hazy. I wish I could remember because it seemed really important. I think Zadí was there too. She asked me if I would do something for her. I'm sure I said yes, but I can't remember what it was."

"I'm right here, honey," Will soothed, somewhat troubled by Lena's vague account. Ever since he had found her, she had repeatedly dreamed about bad things happening to him. Was Lena having visions too? And now one with Zadí?

"Shall we arise?" Will suggested. "Var will need my help to bring the ship into port. And we all need to be ready before then."

Lena worriedly gazed into his face. "You'll be careful today, right?"

"Of course, Lena. And I'll do whatever it takes to keep you safe. We need to see this through to the end so we can finally restore the Riders, and you have an important role to play in that. So help me succeed by staying hidden. If you were anywhere near the fighting, you know I'd stop at nothing to protect you, no matter what else I might be facing. Let's not risk that." She nodded, so Will continued on a lighter note, "I'm looking forward to seeing Glimmer again. She'll be happy things worked out for us."

Lena smiled at mention of Will's dragon. Glimmer had always felt like _their_ dragon anyway, since Lena had been right with him when she hatched and had helped think of name ideas. "I promise I'll stay hidden if you promise to be careful."

"Deal." Will tightened his arms around her, following her lead as she kissed him. When she pulled away, he smiled. "I love you, Lena. Don't ever forget it."

"How could I?" she teased, finally sitting up so they could dress. "No husband has ever been more loving. I'm a lucky girl." She lifted one hand to his shoulder and ran it down his arm, lingering on the muscles. When one eyebrow thoughtfully dipped below the other, Will recognized her look of indecision and guessed she was debating whether or not to tell him something. A slight shake of her head was his clue that she had decided not to right then, and she instead said, "I guess Zadí might be the only one who would have understood what I mean."

Will hoped his expression didn't change at all as he worked to maintain the smile. "You're probably right. Var and I are a lot alike. In more ways than appearance."

She smiled in the flirtatious way he loved—lips together and head turned to the side over one raised shoulder—because two dimples popped into view on her cheeks. With a cue like that, it wasn't any effort for Will to smile sincerely in return.

They finished getting dressed, and Lena reached for his hand. "Ready to get some breakfast?"

"Yes, but you go on ahead," Will invited, grabbing his journal from the bedside table. Lena liked to read from it at night, and they would often discuss the adventures he had as they searched for her. "I need to write something really quick. Just a dream I had and want to remember. Then I'm going to talk to Var. I'll be down soon, honey."

She regarded him curiously but made no objection as she released his hand and left the captain's cabin. Will sat down at the table and made a brief entry addressed to Lena, as was his usual habit. Then he exited the room and stopped beside Var at the helm. He doubted they would be alone for long, so he got right to the point.

"Var, I know you've noticed the way Brom, Brin, Lena, and I talk about Bid'Daum. I want you to know why, just in case."

At this, Var looked over. "In case of what?"

Will shrugged. "But I need you to know. Bid'Daum and Lena made an agreement while she was Tenga's prisoner. He distracted Tenga from attacking her, kept the Caretakers alive, and helped us find her. In exchange for this and his help in restoring the pact, she agreed to destroy his Eldunarí. He wants to die and doubts the elves will allow that. So she needs our help to make sure it happens."

"Or what?"

"He'll kill her. He can somehow manipulate the environment and use it against a non-magical person. He almost strangled her the first time she got through to him."

"I wouldn't let anything happen to Lena," Var vowed, returning his eyes to the sea. Reavstone now loomed on the horizon. "No man should lose his wife."

Will cocked his head to the side, glaring at the deck in frustration. "Var, please don't be rash today. I know you want to join Zadí, but we don't want to lose you too. Life is still worth living, even if it doesn't feel like it now. I've noticed that things have gotten just a little easier for you in the past few weeks. The sun keeps rising. Days keep passing. In time, I think you would heal."

"Doesn't feel like it to me," Var bleakly differed.

"You don't think you could ever love anyone else?"

"Not right now."

"Yes, but in time?" Will pressed.

Var sighed. "I don't know, Will. You'd better eat. We'll be there soon."

Will blew out his breath, sadly watching his twin a moment longer before turning to head for the galley.

"Wait, Will?"

Will stopped. "Yes?"

"Will you help me carry Zadí to the berth cabin so she'll be out of harm's way later today?"

"Sure," Will agreed, changing directions so he could help fulfill his brother's request.

-:-:-

Since they were so close to Reavstone, after breakfast everyone gathered in the cargo hold so they could take care of the magical defenses. In case the Shade and her henchmen were waiting to meet them, they wanted to be prepared before going up to the main deck.

They used Nefin and Keeta's room, where he and Brom had already accompanied Iduna and Nёya. Brom had also transferred Bid'Daum's miniaturized Eldunarí to this location. As the space was quite small, Nefin excused himself and Keeta by saying, "I took care of this before breakfast. We'll go up now to make more room and so I can keep watch."

"I've linked all of our minds with my usual spell," Brom shared as the two turned to go, "in case you need to communicate quickly." Nefin acknowledged him with a nod.

Hanna started with Swiftpaw. According to her customary method, she sang softly and swiftly in the ancient language, weaving a string of wards against bodily injury with particular emphasis on swords, beaks, and claws. When finished with the werecat, she repeated her efforts with Ajh and then Will.

"Thank you, Hanna," he said with a feeble smile. Her anxious smile in return more closely resembled a grimace.

"I'll protect Var once we're back on deck," she whispered.

Brom then guarded the ship with layer upon layer of defense so as to divert any obvious attacks by the Shade and Lethrblaka. But he didn't cast any wards on himself or Brin, so Will assumed that, like Nefin, he already had.

As everyone except for Lena and the elven Caretakers shuffled up to the main deck, Will remained to say goodbye. After giving her a hug and kiss, he stepped back and said, "Remember your promise."

She nodded and whispered, "You too. Love you." She held onto his hand a moment longer, twisting his blue ring around his finger. The enchantments on their wedding bands still worked as always, and Will's was too warm right then in response to Lena's distress. He could feel the same reaction in her golden ring as a result of his somber mood.

He dropped his eyes to watch her fidgeting, worried his ring might have given Lena a clue of the hunch he had felt since he woke up. When he looked back at her face, blue eyes the same color as the ring nervously met his gaze. He saw the same indecision as earlier that morning.

"I need to go up, honey."

Instead of releasing his hand, she stepped closer and once again encircled her arms around his waist. "Please, Will. I . . . I . . ." Pressing her face into his chest, Lena whimpered pitifully. "Please come back to me." She once again took his left hand and held it against her lower abdomen. "To us."

Will creased his brow in surprise. "Us?"

Lena nodded again, her eyes swimming with tears. "I didn't know the right time to tell you."

"You're pregnant?"

She once again silently lowered her chin, still fighting to maintain her composure.

"That's wonderful, honey," he congratulated with subdued happiness, squeezing her against him again. "I'll do my best to come back."

She sniffed and smiled bravely while stepping away. "See you soon, love."

Will dipped his head and turned away before she could see that her tender emotions had brought his to the surface.

 _A baby?_

Like that morning, another vision flashed through his mind—Lena in a few more months with an adorable swelling belly like Zadí's. His baby growing inside. Then the picture changed. Now Will saw Lena holding a healthy baby boy on her hip. The child stared at him from wide blue eyes, a precious toothless grin on his face.

 _A son. Yes, Lena. I'll do whatever is required to protect you and our son._

Will gulped down the lump in his throat and swiftly exited the cargo hold, forcing himself to focus as he hurried up to the main deck.

He, Var, Nefin, and Brin all wore their armor and either carried their weapons and shields or had them within easy reach. Brom was invisible in the long boat. So far, he hadn't reported anything concerning. Swiftpaw in her cat form perched on the side of Brom's hideout, tail twitching rhythmically and ready to assist him if needed.

The three going onshore were dressed as nondescriptly as possible, hoping to blend in without drawing any more attention than they already would as an elf, dwarf, and dark-skinned human traveling together.

Before they got any closer to land, Hanna boldly approached Var and, without asking permission, started casting wards on him.

"I don't want any wards," he flatly interrupted.

"Too bad," Hanna replied in a wavering voice.

Will glanced over, impressed that she had actually defied Var.

"I can't stand the thought of losing another friend and that includes you," Hanna went on. "If you die, it won't be through any neglect of mine. You'll have to take a lot of hits until the wards fail. Though I'm fueling them with energy from the stone in your hilt, they still won't last forever." While Var pointedly stared in a different direction, she finished the defensive enchantments. He offered no thanks.

As they slowly sailed into the wide harbor before Reavstone, Will observed their surroundings, starting with the peninsula off their port side. All that remained of what might have once been a white sand beach was a dirty stretch of shoreline littered with refuse. Mangy animals rooted around through the garbage, picking fights over the meanest discoveries.

The city sprawled out—filthy and disorganized, from all appearances—on the peninsula's eastern side. Tall, craggy cliffs devoid of plant life crowded the western shore. Misty fog churned out by a thundering waterfall clung like stooped specters around the jagged peaks and mysterious crevices, some of which were large enough to conceal any number of unpleasant surprises. Will couldn't dismiss the foreboding feeling that those caves would be the perfect hideaway for a flying creature waiting to ambush someone on the pier.

The farther north he looked, the more industrial and grimy the port became. The waterfront should have been the hub of a thriving economy, but it was surprisingly quiet, almost deserted. On a bright summer morning like this one, Will would have expected the dock to be teeming with activity, but it seemed as if no one had performed any business here in months.

The ocean abruptly ended at a low rock wall bordering the near side of a wide stone street. Water lapped at the manmade divide between land and sea, as well as at each long wooden pier extending away from the road into the harbor. Evenly spaced mooring posts protruded from the wooden docks for boats or ships to tie off at. Opposite the rock wall, rundown warehouses lined the street, and a white stone city stretched into the distance behind.

"I thought you said Reavstone was lovely," Nefin muttered to Keeta. "That's not how I'd describe it based on my first impressions."

Keeta gazed at the scene in confusion then looked over at Brin. "What do you think happened? Even if the Shade has been here for a week, the city couldn't have deteriorated this quickly." Turning to Nefin, she answered, "It _was_ lovely last year. The harbor looked nothing like this then. That beach was clean. The white sand was perfect for walking around and playing on. Families came here all day to enjoy the sea."

 _But it still seems really busy_ , Brom stated from his hidden location. _At least to me._

"Uh no, Brom," Brin contradicted. "This place looks like a ghost town. Are we going to be able to find supplies?"

"We have to," Keeta insisted. "We don't have anywhere else to stop."

Brom sat up, fully visible, and looked toward the waterside street, which they were only minutes from reaching. "I can sense hundreds of people nearby, but their minds are shielded. I can't sense from their thoughts who they are or why they're here. What's going on?"

"Really?" Nefin said. "I can't sense them."

"Me neither," Hanna admitted.

"Must be one of the Shade's tricks," Brom decided. "Does this change our approach at all?"

 _The Shade and her friends are here_ , Swiftpaw informed. _In one of those caves on the cliffs. But I can discern nothing of their thoughts, only their mental presence._

"Can I please go with Keeta?" Nefin quietly requested as he squinted toward the barren bluffs.

"They need your help guarding the ship," Hanna reminded. "No one else can shoot as fast, as far, or as accurately. Ajh and I will help Keeta stay safe, though she really is more than capable of looking out for herself. But maybe we should stay together for a minute in case the Shade immediately attacks."

Brom nodded his approval of this idea as Keeta pointed out the area where she expected to have the most luck finding supplies. Will sailed toward an opening beside one of the wooden quays jutting away from the street. Each landing had enough distance in between for two large ships to berth side by side. As another dilapidated boat already occupied the mooring off their port side, they intended to tie off on their starboard side, which was to Will's right as he faced the bow.

"That vessel should be in the dockyard," Var remarked of the decrepit neighboring boat, waiting at the starboard railing with a loosely coiled rope in hand. As they gently bumped the pier, he vaulted himself over the rail and landed on the wooden surface with a hollow thump. He expertly secured the rope around the mooring post then stood and reached up to unlatch the gangplank, which he carefully lowered to the dock.

Ajh, Hanna, and Keeta remained onboard, and many tense minutes passed. But nothing happened.

"What is she waiting for?" Var demanded, eyes on the cliffs. "We're right here in plain sight."

"She probably wants us to split up," Nefin guessed. "Should we play into her hands?"

"Well, the city looks empty," Keeta reasoned. "We came here to get supplies. We won't go far, in case we need to come back and help."

Before she left, Nefin knelt in front of Keeta and gave her a tight hug. "I wish you could wear your armor," he said. "Hanna and I can communicate with our minds if you need anything. Be careful and hurry."

Keeta nodded and quickly kissed him. Patting the bag slung across her chest, she reassured, "I have my axe and your wards. You be careful too." Then Nefin stood aside so she could disembark with Hanna and Ajh.

Something had definitely changed between Nefin and Keeta in the last two days, though Will didn't know what. But Nefin anxiously watched her cross the street and disappear between two of the warehouses before scaling the main mast to the crow's nest, where he would have a better shot if the Lethrblaka ever showed up. He and Hanna had agreed to be the link between the two groups so Brom could focus on his task.

After several more stressful minutes passed, Nefin reported, "Hanna has caught glimpses of people behind shutters, but the warehouses and shops are empty. They can't find anyone to help them. Though, as Brom suggested, there's a lot of evidence in town of a large group of people inhabiting the area very recently."

Swiftpaw suddenly exclaimed, _Here they come! The Lethrblaka can emit jarring screeches that would render most of you useless._

Everyone's eyes snapped away from Nefin or Reavstone back toward the crags across the harbor and beach. After spotting the specks in the air, Brom abruptly sprang out of the long boat and darted below deck. He returned seconds later with Brin's bow and arrows and his sword.

He hastily explained, "I can't pinpoint the Shade's mind to discern her wards, or any she might have protected the others with, or any magic she might be preparing to use. She must have found out about me and my skill because she copied it. I once told Lena that I'd never want an enemy with my ability, and now we do. But it doesn't feel like she's meddling in my brain or secretly performing magic like I can do. Anyway, until I can perceive her thoughts or magic, I'll only be able to help as a fighter. Nefin, Brin, start firing arrows as soon as they're within range." He was almost as calm as at any other time. Almost.

With his eyes toward the cliffs, Will quickly saw what Brom and Nefin had surely already discerned. The two Lethrblaka streaked toward their ship, carrying three passengers between them—the Shade and other two Ra'zac, he presumed.

Brin worriedly objected, "Brom, you don't have any armor."

"Then watch my back. I protected myself with all the same wards as I did you and tied them to the stones in our Rider's blades, just like Hanna."

"Focus more on yourself," she pleaded. "The steel-silk will block any physical aggression even if the wards falter."

"I'll be careful," he shortly said. "I'm also going to prepare for any of the Shade's magical attacks." He slightly raised his voice. "Five of us, five of them. We'll just have to fight until their wards wear off."

"And hope that's before ours do," Nefin dryly added, already shooting towards the flying monsters. From what he could see, Will guessed each arrow would have sunk directly into one of the Lethrblaka's lidless black eyeballs, but the anticipated wards averted each arrow. They gently sailed back to Nefin and obediently plopped into his quiver.

"That's convenient," Will commented.

Ever shooting, Nefin grinned and called down, "After facing Tenga, I thought it'd be nice if my arrows automatically came back to me when they didn't reach their targets. While I was summoning them back to me on Vroengard, he hit me with the poisoned darts. So I enchanted my arrows to do just that."

"I get Ugly Number One," Var growled in grim anticipation, running his hand along the bare blade of his sword, which didn't hurt him thanks to Hanna's wards. Will scowled when he realized that his twin was already trying to weaken the protection, just as Hanna had advised.

"Which of the five do you mean?" Will barked. "They're all ugly."

"The larger Lethrblaka," Var clarified. Flying over land along the shore and then the stone street once they reached it, the beasts were now close enough that Brin was firing as well. Her arrows fell harmlessly to the earth beneath.

"Then I'll take the smaller," Will said. "We're the biggest. But we'll need you other three to help as soon as possible. Trying to kill a Lethrblaka alone is a death sentence. I have a feeling those beaks and talons will rapidly deplete Hanna's wards."

"The Shade is mine," Brin claimed. "I'm ready this time."

Brom warned, "I'm going to empty your ears so the Lethrblaka's shrieking doesn't paralyze you. I'll try to disable their vocal chords somehow. And Nefin and I should handle the Ra'zac. Their breath won't affect us. Get ready."

Will's hearing went fuzzy as Brom's spell took effect, but he was grateful. Brom had acted right in time, for the Lethrblaka were now near enough that Will could _still_ hear as the closer monster opened its long beak and uttered a long, spine-tingling cry.

A surge of adrenaline raced through him, and Will thought, _I can't believe I'm getting ready to fight one of those! Where's a dragon when you need one?_

-:-:-:-

* * *

 **A/N (Dec 30, 2016):** I thought putting the date might help for future reference or when new readers finally catch up to this point. Anyway, I've spent hours over the last eleven days working on this and the next couple of chapters. Between them, they contain over 18,000 words and basically describe the fight scene.

After finishing this on Tuesday night, I felt kinda burned out. It took a lot out of me. But when I woke up yesterday morning to discover two new reviews (from Sovereign6774 and KiwiAndProud), I suddenly felt the renewed desire to get on with it! So thank you, you two! See what I mean about reviews motivating me?

To help you follow me in the next chapter, I will briefly explain what I did. I shift viewpoints A LOT and to make it perfectly clear whose perspective I'm switching to, I just decided to insert that character's name at the top of each new section as a subheading of sorts. I couldn't make new chapters with that particular characters' name as the title because I already have chapters named after each main character in earlier parts and fanfiction won't allow title duplicates. And I didn't want to think of nine new chapter names. They're all desperate in the next chapter, so the title seems to fit everyone.

So much happens for every character that I didn't know how else to get it all in. And the shifts aren't strictly chronological, so you'll occasionally repeat a few seconds or minutes from the new person's viewpoint. Hopefully you'll see what I mean as you move on to the next chapter. This would have been so much easier to understand as a movie. Writing it out was really challenging for me.

I'd really appreciate hearing everyone's thoughts and reactions, so please share them!


	127. Part III 28 Desperation

**28\. Desperation**

 **Keeta**

Keeta and her two companions swiftly strode down the empty streets, scanning left and right for any sign of someone who could help them. Everywhere she looked she observed undeniable proof of careless vandalism—broken windows, doors hanging askew from their hinges, and splintering wood walls. Trash littered the lanes, just as on the beach, but they saw no stray animals here. As Brin had said, Reavstone was like a ghost town. So far Keeta had seen no sign of life.

"I can't believe it," Keeta muttered. "Last year this place was swarming with people. The streets were clean, the buildings were in good repair. Reavstone was my favorite place to visit. But now it looks like an army of mercenaries swept through and pillaged the whole city."

"I just saw a flash of movement behind those shutters," Hanna whispered. "It's not completely deserted, but those who stayed are afraid of outsiders. What could have possibly happened?"

"I can't even guess," Ajh replied. "But we need to hurry and find some supplies. If there are any. It really does feel like someone has looted everything of value. What are we going to do if we can't buy more food, Keeta?"

"Uh, journey inland a ways? I'm not exactly sure. I never considered the possibility that the Shade would wipe out an entire city just to set us back. I thought we would surely find supplies in Reavstone. Let's check inside some of these warehouses." She stopped by an open door. "If no one is here, maybe we can just take what we need."

They cautiously entered the empty building, alert for any hint of danger.

"No one is in here," Hanna breathed, more quietly than before. "I'm using my mind. But I think Brom was right. All of the evidence suggests that there should be hundreds of people in the very near vicinity." She held up her palm and created a dim light over the surface to increase their visibility in the shadowy warehouse. "There are some bins over there. Let's go check—"

She abruptly cut off and focused intently for a moment. Then she whirled toward the door. "The Shade and her friends just left their hideout! We need to go back to the ship and help!"

Hanna dashed away then stopped short by the door when she realized she had left Keeta behind. "Sorry, Keeta! I'm just so worried!"

"No, you two go on ahead," Keeta insisted. "I'll catch up soon, but they should have as much help as possible. We can come back and look again after we've dealt with the Shade."

"Yes, and I get to help this time," Ajh declared with obvious anticipation. He caught up to Hanna, and they disappeared out the door.

Keeta jogged after as quickly as her short legs would carry her, still constantly searching for any sign of danger or clue as to what had happened in Reavstone. Just as a prickling chill down her spine motivated her to increase her pace, a familiar and completely unexpected voice stopped her dead in her tracks. "Keeta?"

Keeta spun around, and her eyes verified what her ears had suspected.

Her mouth fell open and she gasped, "Gerik?" Her longtime friend puffed up the street, tightly gripping his Rider's axe by the handle as he stumbled to a halt in front of her.

Keeta reflexively reached out to steady him, shocked by his appearance. Dark shadows underlined wild eyes possessed by some strange fervor. Leaves and dirt matted his hair and short beard. Crusty white saliva encircled his mouth. His face and figure looked gaunt, as his threadbare clothing hung at odd angles from his body. The soles of his sturdy dwarven boots were almost fully worn away.

"Gerik! Whatever are you doing here? You look as if you've been running nonstop for weeks!"

"I have," he rasped. "Do you have any water?" He fretfully swatted at his belt where he might have once carried a canteen, though one no longer dangled there.

"Of course!" Keeta exclaimed, opening her bag. She pulled out her water skin and offered it to Gerik. The crazed gleam in his eye deeply concerned her. She had never seen her steady friend so unbalanced.

Gerik drank long and greedily, water spilling out the sides of his mouth into his filthy beard. When he finished, he exhaled roughly while wiping his mouth with the back of his other arm. The axe glinted in the sunlight. "Thank you. I'm glad I found you, Keeta."

"You were looking for me?" She reached for the water skin as he handed it back, and he seized her left hand, glaring down at her solid diamond wedding ring.

"This is of dwarven make. Where did you get it?"

Keeta furrowed her brow at his sharp manner. "Nefin gave it to me—"

"The elf! Where did _he_ get it? Kill some old dwarf?"

"Gerik! Of course not! Rhunön gave it to him—"

"So _she_ must have killed an old dwarf. The knowledge of how to make a ring out of solid diamond has been lost for centuries."

Just as Keeta opened her mouth to refute Gerik's preposterous suggestion, a hair-raising screech filled the sky over the harbor. They both cringed, and her retort died on her lips as Keeta clapped her hands over her ears and jerked her face toward the sound, witnessing the two Lethrblaka careen toward the waterfront and her friends. "Nefin," she faintly whispered, turning away from Gerik to head toward the ship.

But he caught her arm, and Keeta looked back in surprise. A confusing mix of emotions crossed his features: defiance, fear, pain, defeat. Keeta couldn't make any sense of it.

"Gerik, I need to go help my friends! That cry was from a Lethrblaka, and there's a Shade too!"

The fear and pain on Gerik's face reappeared doubly strong, and Keeta once again felt perplexed. What was going on?

"Aren't you glad to see me too?" Gerik nervously jabbered. "I've been looking for you and the others for weeks! The former Riders on the Isle scryed King Orik over a month ago, and I volunteered to lead an army of dwarven warriors out into the land. Before we left, the elves on the Isle communicated again, saying you and the others would be sailing south along the coast, so we ran here hoping to find and assist you."

Before Keeta could answer his question, Gerik reached out with his free hand to clap her in a tight embrace, which she uncertainly returned. He seemed very determined to distract her. "I'm surprised to see you, Gerik. I don't understand why you're here. Your explanation just now had several gaping holes. Why are you alone? Where is this army? And how did you know to come to Reavstone? We might have stopped anywhere."

Keeta began to pull away, and her apprehension rapidly increased when Gerik held her in place with unflinching strength. "Gerik? What's going on? You're acting so strange. Let me go. I need to go help Nefin." She turned her head to the side when movement from the corner of her eye caught her attention. Dozens of dwarves in the same condition as Gerik marched out of the alleys up and down the lane, pouring into the street like a swarm of hungry locusts.

"Nefin?" he hissed, and rank spittle flew into her hair. "Did you _marry_ him?"

"This is ridiculous! You aren't yourself! Now let me go!" The new arrivals rushed onto the road, surrounding them with alarming rapidity. Keeta recognized many friends and acquaintances, all afflicted by the same feverish mien as Gerik. They looked obsessed, and Keeta experienced a sinking feeling as she began to realize what might be going on.

 _A huge group of people. A pillaging army. Oh no. Not my friends! Please don't be under the Shade's control right now! Please! I can't fight you!_

She looked the other direction when Gerik raised the hand holding his axe, while still pinning her against him with his free arm. Keeta started to struggle, her suspicions confirmed. Now she comprehended the conflicted emotions on his face. Gerik her friend would never try to hurt her. But Gerik her enemy? The Shade's pawn?

"Gerik! Fight it, Gerik! Please! It's me, Keeta! I'm your friend. We've been friends since we were little. Don't let her control you, Gerik! Listen to me!" She fumbled in her open bag for access to her axe.

Her efforts to sway him failed. The blade of his axe once again gleamed, and Keeta watched over her shoulder in horror as he plunged it down toward her back.

 _No armor!_ Keeta panicked just as she heard Hanna scream, "Keeta! No!"

* * *

 **Nefin**

Huge spouts of water erupted out of the harbor and jetted toward the creatures flying above, showering Nefin with a spray of salty water. The Lethrblaka screeched angrily and lurched away from the downpour, not entirely avoiding it as they crashed into one another. Of their three passengers, only one maintained her seat during the violent turbulence; the two Ra'zac were thrown from their backs and careened toward the street below.

Enraged, the Shade cursed Brom's timely attack and shouted the spell to keep her two riding companions from smashing into the hard stone surface.

 _That would have been lucky,_ Nefin ironically thought as he rained arrows on the Lethrblaka. _She might not have protected them from a collision with the ground._ He aimed for their bat-like wings, knowing Will and Var wouldn't stand a chance if the beasts stayed airborne and pecked at them from the sky. But each projectile sailed off course and innocuously glided right back to his quiver.

 _Good news is, I'm not going to run out of arrows. Bad news? We can't touch them._

The Lethrblaka concluded a clumsy landing on the abandoned waterfront, narrowly missing the younger Ra'zac under them, who each dove sideways out of harm's way. _They're fast,_ Nefin noted, filing the observation away for future use. _What is it with this Shade and her macabre_ friends _?_ he then wondered. _The eel and skeletons in Ilirea. Some Ra'zac and Lethrblaka in Reavstone. Hasn't she learned yet that it takes more than a few scary monsters to stop us?_

Arrow. Arrow. Arrow. Arrow. Nefin never ceased firing, knowing it was only a matter of time before one made contact.

The Shade smoothly dismounted her rearing steed—who appeared to be panicking in his close proximity to the water—and strode forward to stand in front of it.

Brom removed his spell to empty their ears so they could all hear as Trianna flatly welcomed, "Greetings. How lovely to see you again. Brin." The Shade's gaze lingered on Brin with noticeable malice. "Nefin." Her blood red eyes flashed up to him, betraying the faintest trace of surprise, and the abhorrence deepened. "I wasn't expecting to see you here, boy. I thought Tenga finished you off. Well, all the better. Your arrow sent me into a nameless limbo for over two months. Today I shall return the favor, only _you_ will remain indefinitely. Will and Var." She disdainfully regarded the twins. "One has so much to fight for, and the other has nothing to lose. I look forward to seeing my friends shred you to pieces."

The Shade took one step forward onto the wooden dock jutting out toward the ship, her lips curling into a cruel smile. She seemed unaware as yet that her four "friends" balked to follow her lead, all fearfully eyeing the ocean. "And Brom," she lovingly finished. "Ah, Brom. Would that I hadn't discovered your little secret. But now I am more powerful than you can even begin to imagine and I have learned to duplicate your specialty. Frustrating, isn't it? Not knowing my thoughts. Unable to discern my mental presence through magical means. Poor Tenga never caught on, the stupid fool. But I did."

"You know our names," Brom calmly stated.

"But of course, dear boy. Not only do I remember you from my days living in the royal palace, I also happened upon an old friend of yours. I do believe he is reuniting with Keeta, Hanna, and Ajh right now. He and the army he was leading, which is now under my control. And their sole purpose is to assist me in eradicating you."

Nefin felt a twinge of anxiety for Keeta and Hanna, then he dismissed the Shade's statement as an empty threat. All the same, he redoubled his efforts to penetrate the Lethrblaka's wards. If there was a chance Keeta and Hanna were in danger, he would be the first to run to their assistance. But he didn't want to leave his friends at the ship so outnumbered.

The Shade reached both hands to her shoulders and closed them around the hilts of two blades slung crosswise over her back. She simultaneously drew both weapons in a metallic _schweeng_ and held them at the ready before her.

As she did this, Brom said, _She's spread too thin and trying to hide it. Notice how she hasn't actively thwarted any of Nefin's arrows, but she's increasingly agitated that he hasn't stopped shooting? Each one leeches off her vitality. I still can't read her thoughts, but I've deduced that she is magically controlling this large army she just mentioned, protecting herself and her four friends with wards, and concealing all of these efforts from me. It also appears as if the Ra'zac and Lethrblaka aren't completely supportive of her. They still haven't followed. There may be some degree of coercion going on there too. Before long, something's going to slip. Orchestrating all of this will weaken and distract her. She doesn't have any more energy to spare and she also appears to be unaware of my knowledge of the name of names, which will allow me to reverse any of this magic as soon as I can perceive it._

"But where is Lena?" Trianna continued, slowly advancing down the dock. "Hiding perhaps? And Bid'Daum? I would dearly love to meet him. How about poor Zadí? She died to save you all, didn't she?" From his peripheral vision Nefin was aware of Var tensely gripping his sword. "Well, her sacrifice was in vain, for today you shall all perish. The Dragon Riders will _not_ return."

She stopped her measured march about twenty paces away, turning to address her companions. When she realized they hadn't ventured forth onto the pier, she hissed in fury and stalked back to them. A few moments of charged silence passed, and Nefin guessed she was performing some sort of nonverbal magic.

He glanced at Brom, who nodded slightly to confirm his surmise and said to them all, _She's renewing the spells to compel them to obey her. They aren't as eager to fight as she wants us to believe._

Though Trianna was now back on the street, Nefin still heard when she said aloud in a low voice, "The princess is hiding onboard. So too are the elven Caretakers and the Eldunarí. I will kill the first three and seize possession of the dragon, then the Riders will never return."

Brom also heard and began relaying the message to the three whose ears weren't as sharp when, without warning, their three two-legged enemies scuttled down the quay with elf-like speed. The larger Lethrblaka launched itself into the air to circle around to the stern, while his smaller brother pounced over the rock wall and right onto the bow, which was touching the low divide between the street and harbor.

The ship pitched under the beast's heavy weight, but as an experienced sailor, Var maintained his balance and charged up the stairs to the quarter deck to meet his opponent.

Nefin used the momentum of the rocking craft to throw himself from the crow's nest onto the nearest rope tied off below. He slid down with perfect stability, passing right over Will's head as his friend covered the short distance to the bow. Before reaching the deck, Nefin fired five more arrows in quick succession at Will's adversary. The last two made contact, tearing into the Lethrblaka's outstretched right wing.

Screaming furiously, it jerked sideways and set off more wild rocking as its spiked claws scrabbled against the deck. They undoubtedly would have gouged right into the wood if not for Brom's protective wards, and Nefin realized that Brom must have somehow weakened the Lethrblaka's voices. Still unbelievably loud to Nefin's sensitive ears, its shriek was nonetheless not as potent as possible.

Will didn't hesitate during this moment of confusion. He sprang up to the long boat and leaped through the air toward the Lethrblaka's head. His wards deflected the monster's snapping beak, and _its_ wards protected that snapping beak from Will's slashing sword.

 _Good thinking_ , Nefin approved. _Cut that thing off as soon as possible._

Will snagged the creature's neck and swung around to its back, mounting the muscular gray-skinned body as if it was Glimmer. His Dragon Rider experience manifested as Will clamped his knees around the Lethrblaka's shoulders and repeatedly hacked at its neck.

"Its wards are failing!" Will shouted. "Swiftpaw, go for its eyes!"

Nefin simultaneously saw the werecat soar through the air, Brom spring forward to engage the Ra'zac as they scurried up the gangplank, and Brin deftly hurdle the railing to land in front of the Shade. Then he hit the deck in a fluid roll, ending on his knees. He raised one leg and planted that foot on the bucking deck to steady himself as he twisted around, rapidly yanking half a dozen more arrows one after the other from his quiver and shooting them just as swiftly toward the larger Lethrblaka. The last three missiles to leave his bow ripped into the fiend's left wing, and another agonized screech grated on his ears.

Though Nefin hadn't witnessed Var's clash thus far, he guessed his friend had spent the few seconds since it began dodging the four-foot beak stabbing down at him and retaliating in like manner with his sword. But as the Lethrblaka teetered on the railing, Var did just as Will had and used the momentary loss of control to light upon the beast's back. He held on around its neck with one arm and chopped at the injured wing with his other.

His sword didn't penetrate as Nefin's arrows had, which made him wonder whether the Shade had taken greater precaution against blades. She'd had an uncanny knowledge of their battle with Tenga and must have thought Nefin wouldn't be a part of this battle today.

 _Wrong again_ , Nefin defied and sharply leaned back to avoid one of the Ra'zac's swinging swords. With his torso almost parallel to the deck, he held his bow at the same angle and shot four more arrows for good measure, two at once toward each overgrown insect fighting Brom. Then he jumped up and slung his bow across his back with one hand while drawing his sword with the other.

The nearest Ra'zac fully turned to confront him, opening its short beak to spitefully blow in Nefin's face.

"So you forgot to brush your teeth," Nefin taunted, unimpressed, though the stench of its mouth was overpowering. "You'll have to do better than that. I'm an elf. Stink breath doesn't work on me!"

In a flash of steel, he slashed up the front of this hooded beast then spun and drove his blade down the back of the other. Now he and Brom faced one another with the two cloaked monsters back to back between them.

As his foe retaliated, hissing a string of chittering clicks, Nefin suddenly staggered forward and dropped back to his knees. One of Keeta's wards drained a huge amount of his energy, then one of his own did the same as his opponent aimed a serious blow toward his head. The thrill of battle and sense of invincibility abruptly disappeared under a wave of paralyzing fear.

 _Keeta! Whatever just hit her would have killed her if not for that ward!_

Brom's voice curtly interrupted his panic: _Nefin! What's wrong!_

Nefin was already moving—away from the Ra'zac, over the railing, up the wooden pier—stumbling as Keeta's wards drew away more of his strength. _Someone's violently attacking Keeta! She'll be killed!_

 _Hurry!_ Brom urged, still partly focused on the Ra'zac. _No more wives or sisters can die!_

Nefin shut his mind to Brom and ran as quickly as he could, borrowing vitality from the gem in his blade, though the wards still depleted it.

Then Hanna's frantic voice intruded on his concentration. _Nefin! It's an army of dwarves! Hundreds of them! Keeta's surrounded! I can't get to her!_

So the Shade's words were true. _I'm coming! Don't leave her!_

A flood of desperation fueled Nefin's sprint. The unrelenting dips in his energy confirmed Hanna's words, and he could picture Keeta huddled on the ground while dozens of mindless dwarves chopped away at her. Or maybe Hanna had actually shown him a glimpse of what she was seeing.

 _No, no, no, no! Keeta, hang on! How far did they go!_

Nefin rounded the corner of the last building between himself and the street where his wife, sister, and best friend singlehandedly faced an entire army of possessed dwarves. Dwarven warriors could stand against Kull Urgals. The four of them didn't stand a chance, no matter how many wards.

He saw Hanna's silver hair first, gracefully swirling around her as she contended with an increasing number of assailants on the outskirts of the skirmish. The image was so contradictory that Nefin nearly tripped, not to mention that his wards on Keeta were almost gone.

As an elf, Hanna had learned archery and fencing and she was better at both than most human warriors, but she hated violence and hadn't taken any weapons with her. She used magic to shove the dwarves away, but Nefin knew her strength wouldn't last. Her wards also protected several of their friends back at the ship, and each hit they took subtracted from her energy.

Then he saw Ajh, who did his best to shield Hanna from the necessary mutilation of his actions. But Nefin felt another pang of desperation when he realized that the dwarves kept fighting without limbs and with gushing wounds to the head or torso.

 _They can't feel pain. Of course not! The Shade was spread too thin trying to control them and do everything else. Just like Galbatorix, she simply made them immune to pain and sent them like pigs to the slaughter._

Nefin flew past his sister and Ajh, shouting, "Ajh, get out of here! Hanna will hold them off! As soon as I have Keeta, we're running back to the ship, and we can run faster than you! Go on! If we can help them kill the Shade, all of these dwarves will be released from her control."

He could only pray that Ajh obeyed, because then he was racing toward Keeta. Rather than struggle through the churning mass of dwarves, who had too few enemies and milled about in confusion, he leaped upon the head of the first short soldier he came to and continued on, bounding from helmet to helmet toward the center of the throng where he knew he'd find his wife.

Now close enough to sense the energy from the stone in Keeta's axe, Nefin seized hold of the store and bellowed the spell that would blast every dwarf surrounding his wife thirty feet away. He knew doing so would effectively remove her wards because it used up the reserve sustaining them, but he took the risk because he couldn't think of a faster way to clear his path.

Her terrified, agonized screams pierced Nefin's ears right before his spell threw her attackers into the flanking houses.

Nefin reached the last head before the now open circle and hurled himself twenty feet through the air toward the small shape curled on the ground, arms protectively covering her head. He dove into a reckless roll and righted himself beside Keeta.

Keenly aware of the army closing back in, Nefin ignored the swell of rage at the bloody gashes on her arms and back and scooped her up. He pivoted around and instantly started back the direction he had just run from, once again springing up to his makeshift road of dwarven helmets.

A dozen feet from Hanna, he mentally yelled, _Run, Hanna! Back to the ship! You need to heal Keeta so she doesn't bleed to death! Then we have to kill the Shade before those dwarves catch up._

Keeta clung to him in shock, whimpering in pain.

"I have you, Keeta," Nefin soothed as gently as he could, not allowing himself to look down and see the tears covering her cheeks. He knew they were there. He could hear her crying over the clamor of an army chasing after them.

"Nefin? You didn't kill him, did you?"

"Who?"

"Gerik. The Shade's controlling them, Nefin. I couldn't fight my friends."

"Shhh, sweetie. I know. I didn't kill Gerik, but we need to finish off the Shade before he catches up or I won't have a choice."

Keeta said no more, and Nefin raced as swiftly as the wind back to the ship.

* * *

 **Brin**

After boldly leading the charge, the Shade held back slightly with a calculating look in her eye. Perhaps she wanted to assess the conflict and discover an opening—a way through to the hatch and hidden Caretakers.

But Brin didn't give her the chance. She agilely sprang from a wooden box near the gangplank up to the ship's railing, bypassing Brom and the Ra'zac as she flipped from the balustrade to the gangway.

She landed in front of the Shade in a low crouch, swiftly standing and yanking her staff from her back. If the Shade wanted to fight with two blades, Brin was happy to accommodate.

Her enemy wore crude steel armor under a fancy flowing cape of deepest crimson. _Maybe she wants to emphasize her lovely eyes_ , Brin sarcastically thought. _Did she forget about my loose hair in Ilirea? And that armor looks absolutely useless. Surely she isn't that careless! Has her arrogance made her overconfident, like Tenga?_

Remembering the scornful manner in which the Shade had addressed her in Ilirea right before cutting her neck, Brin seethed, "I have a two-bladed weapon too, _sweetheart_ , so we're even."

Trianna started circling, and Brin matched her movements, more than content to let the Shade initiate the clash. The longer she waited, the weaker her enemy would be. Brin was well aware of the fighting behind her on the ship, and each blow Brom or the twins landed took a small toll on Trianna's energy. Brin knew Nefin had abandoned the ship moments earlier, dashing toward town.

"Are you pregnant, sweetheart?" the Shade sweetly purred, her eyes narrowed with pure hatred.

"Yes," Brin confirmed, seeing no reason to deny what the Shade had obviously already sensed. "But it won't change anything. You're going down."

"Tut tut," the Shade reproved. "I hope you aren't terribly attached to your baby."

Brin screamed defiantly and sprang toward the devil, slashing her staff to knock the Shade's two blades aside. "Don't you _dare_ hurt my baby!" she hissed, shoving the handle into Trianna's throat as she pushed her into the ship. Though she had told Brom on Vroengard that she never wanted to kill anything else ever again, the hazy red bloodlust filling her vision drowned out every nobler sentiment.

 _Brin, the baby's safe!_ Brom sharply reminded. Of course! Brom had included their child when protecting her with wards, knowing the Shade would also be able to sense him and might try something atrocious. Trianna's potential threat had momentarily blocked out every other conscious thought, and Brin was surprised by the strength of her motherly instinct.

"Are you going to stop me?" the Shade contemptuously drawled.

Brin relaxed and stepped back, snapping her staff down on Trianna's two hilts as she raised the blades to nudge her off balance. "Or maybe you _should_ try because then you'd lose even more energy. He's safe. My husband protected him too."

"He? So you're having a bouncing baby boy? How sweet. And who _is_ your dashing husband? Surely not one of your own cousins. No, no. Will is Lena's beau. And Var's wife is _dead_. You were protecting Brom on Vroengard and with him in Tenga's study the next day. How did _you_ manage to win _him_? Son of the mighty Shadeslayers, as beautiful as his father and mother. I'm impressed."

"No, you're jealous," Brin disagreed, unperturbed by the Shade's prodding. She knew Trianna was trying to unsettle her, but it wasn't working. And she wasn't above using the same tactic. "His father never was interested in you, now was he?"

Trianna's eyes glowed with unadulterated loathing. "No, it was his accursed dragon. Eragon would have accepted my invitation that day if not for Saphira. You Dragon Riders disgust me. Nothing will make me happier than succeeding here today. You're not the only one who has improved since last we dueled, mighty warrior."

"But I have much better motivations," Brin retorted, leaning aside as the Shade feinted toward her right. Knowing how much Trianna coveted it, she boastfully added, "And better armor."

Brin smirked at the Shade's blatant annoyance. As Trianna was plainly stalling, Brin decided to start the duel. Without warning, she thrust her staff diagonally up between the Shade's blades, which she held crossed in front of her. Brin wrenched hard to the side so one sword popped up and the other jerked down. During Trianna's brief lapse of control, Brin jabbed her front blade in as hard as she could, willing it to penetrate the Shade's wards as she sliced it back and forth down her body in a choppy zigzag.

She observed the corresponding dip in Trianna's energy as her wards protected her, but the Shade instantly recovered, leaping forward with both swords whirling. Brin could see that her rival truly wasn't as adept with two blades as she wished to appear. From their previous fight, she remembered that the Shade was right-handed, so when the sword in her left hand arced down, Brin spun outside the weapon's range and forcefully smacked the flat of her front blade on the Shade's wrist.

The sword flew from her hand, skidded across the dock, and plunged into the harbor. As the Shade shrieked a curse, foolishly reaching out and taking one step after the weapon, her cape billowed behind her. Passing her staff to one hand, Brin grabbed a handful of the fine material and yanked hard over the Shade's head. The cloak slid off, exposing leather straps near her shoulders that fastened her formed steel breastplate and back armor together.

Trianna promptly regained her balance, but in the meantime, Brin snatched a dagger from her belt and cut the leather strap over the Shade's left shoulder. As expected, it sliced in half. Brin guessed that Trianna wouldn't have thought to protect her armor with wards when she had spread her efforts between so many higher priorities.

"You really should have upgraded your armor," Brin ridiculed. "Couldn't you find an elven smith to craft you something better than this? Oh wait, that's right. They _hate_ Shades."

Trianna snarled and lunged back toward Brin, who darted left and quickly slashed the leather strap over her right shoulder. Both pieces of armor flopped down, awkwardly dangling from similar straps around the Shade's waist.

"Oops," Brin jeered. "That was easy." As the Shade whipped around to face her, Brin rapidly matched her movements and stayed behind her so she could likewise sever both leather straps around her waist.

The armor clanged to the wooden dock, and Brin swept it out of the way with her foot, swiftly sidestepping to stay directly behind her opponent. As the crude metal gear splashed into the water, Brin repeatedly jabbed her dagger over the Shade's mid-back. _Weaken the wards. Stab through her heart,_ she chanted to herself.

But when Trianna had rotated enough to face the gangplank, she unexpectedly darted away from Brin and up onto the ship directly toward Brom, leaving Brin alone on the wooden dock.

She raised her sword in preparation to slash Brom's unprotected back, sneering wickedly over her shoulder at Brin, who suddenly felt like she was moving through a swampy bog as she chased her foe.

* * *

 **Trianna**

Trianna leered exultantly as she swiped her blade down, already knowing Brom's wards would protect him. But she really only wanted to goad his sarcastic, arrogant wife. Oh how she hated these conceited Dragon Riders.

Her most important objective here today was to ensure they would never return, so she had to get below deck and kill the elven Caretakers and Lena. The Shade could already sense that Bid'Daum's Eldunarí was closed off. She couldn't steal from him, but if she could somehow borrow vitality from the three women as they died, she would have more than enough to magically kill the fighters still opposing her. Those the dwarves didn't finish off, at least.

Trianna knew the dwarven army was on its way and still steadfastly submitting to her. However, the Lethrblaka and Ra'zac were another story. They willfully attempted to throw off her compulsion and escape so their race would survive. All along they had seemed aware that the Shade really only wanted them for their brute force, fighting abilities, and as a distraction so she could accomplish her highest priority.

Right now their role as a distraction was key. Will and the smaller Lethrblaka battled near the bow while the two Ra'zac engaged Brom, but if she couldn't find a way to hamper Brin, the Shade would be forced to fight her off again. So she mentally commanded the larger Lethrblaka, _Get rid of the boy and face this Urgal! I must get below deck!_ As the magic in her words took effect, the larger beast shrieked its displeasure and grudgingly yielded. It had no choice.

The Lethrblaka reared back, clinging to the railing with its talons, and forcefully shook its neck. Var sailed through the air away from the ship and disappeared into the harbor.

Trianna chuckled morbidly as she contemplated how his armor would sink him straight to the ocean floor. The Lethrblaka folded its wings and pounced forward, pecking out to snatch Brin up by one horn. So little time had passed since the Shade had run aboard that Brin still scrambled to follow her up the gangplank.

With her attention solely devoted to catching Trianna, Brin was wholly unprepared for the Lethrblaka's interference. She screamed as the beast wrenched her through the air. With a decisive click of its beak, it snipped off Brin's horn and she tumbled to the quarter deck below her.

All of the ropes and sails stretching in many directions above the surface of the deck prevented the winged monsters from fitting aboard the craft, but they were still large enough to present a deadly threat perched on either end. Now the Lethrblaka mercilessly poked down toward Brin, who rolled away from each stab as she struggled to regain her feet.

 _Keep fighting!_ Trianna ordered the Ra'zac, who dueled with Brom on the starboard side of the long boat. Access to the main hatch was completely unhindered, so the Shade sheathed her blade as she vaulted over the long boat and dove forward, yanking the steel ring secured to the door.

 _They will be helpless to stop me,_ she thought with satisfaction, picturing Lena's fear and pain.

"Will!" Brom shouted. "Stop her! She's going for Lena and the Caretakers!"

Bypassing the ladder entirely, the Shade thrust her feet into the hole and dropped down to the lower deck. Just as her eyes passed the level of the deck, a strong hand closed around a fistful of her hair and heaved her back out. She never would have expected Will to be so strong, and she blamed his desperation to protect Lena.

Screaming in rage, the Shade recklessly lashed out with a spell intended to rip Will's arms from his body. Her energy level plummeted dangerously, as she was already coordinating dozens of magical efforts and could ill afford further depletion. The spell did nothing, and Trianna's fury multiplied as she comprehended that in spite of his physical activities, Brom was still mentally prepared for any of her magical exertions. He had perceived her intent and blocked the hex before it could harm his friend.

 _I may have copied some of his abilities, but this boy has more skill than I anticipated. His focus is unprecedented!_

Feeling fresh desperation to succeed, the Shade had a flash of inspiration. Shocked the idea hadn't occurred to her earlier, Trianna pinpointed the energy in each of the nearby Riders' weapons and leeched away all of the power to strengthen herself. She laughed delightedly when she realized that all of the fighters' wards had been tied to the stones in their weapons. Now empty, the stones no longer sustained their magical defenses, and the young people had to rely solely on their armor and skill to survive.

Vitality flowed through her, erasing the fatigue, and the Shade again spoke to her henchmen: _You can injure them now! Target any area unprotected by armor!_

Will's bellow of agony accompanied his abrupt release of her hair, though Trianna still felt his hand on her head. As it slowly slid down and thudded to the deck, she then understood that the Lethrblaka had bitten off his hand to allow her escape.

 _Well done!_ she jubilantly praised, whipping around to witness Will stuff the stump of his right arm into his pocket and dodge sideways away from the Lethrblaka's sharp beak. Grimacing in pain, the boy fought on with his sword in his left hand, but blood swiftly soaked his pant leg.

 _It's only a matter of time_ , the Shade smugly thought, snatching up the hand as a grisly trophy. _If he loses enough blood, nothing can save him. Not even dear Hanna._

Once again uncontested, the Shade dropped through the hatch in pursuit of her true targets. She no longer required a distraction and they had effectively served their purpose, so Trianna released the Ra'zac and Lethrblaka from her control and protection. _I'll waste no more energy on those cowards. Let them die!_

She descended one more level to the cargo hold, guided by the enormous beacon of Bid'Daum's Eldunarí.

* * *

 **Brom**

Brom remembered his father's account of dueling two Ra'zac and wondered if history was repeating itself. More than once he wished he had Brin's double-bladed staff, which would have been more useful than his sword or the staff his father had used. The major difference between now and that fight over thirty years past was that his two best friends attempted to vanquish two Lethrblaka, rather than his dragon.

Brom experienced an unanticipated pang for Talon and another wave of worry for Will and Var, but he quickly pushed the emotions from his mind. The Ra'zac were agile and calculating, and he had to focus almost all of his attention on them. Part of his mind, however, was constantly attuned to Trianna's potential magic.

He felt her preparing to kill his baby right before Brin's fanatical scream pierced his ears. _Thank goodness I protected the baby too!_ he thought as he reminded Brin of the same.

Brom quickly removed the Ra'zac's flowing black cloaks, but as slash after slash glanced off his opponents' shiny exoskeletons, Brom sensed the Shade's hold over them dwindling. She couldn't concurrently fuel both their wards and her spells to subject them to her will. He suddenly comprehended that her mental concealment was somehow linked to their protection and compulsion. When the latter ended, so too would the former and Brom would be able to remove Trianna's wards.

The larger insectile fiend unexpectedly hissed, "We are not ssso different, young Dragon Rider. We desssire only to pressserve our raccce, jussst as you ssseek to ressstore your brotherhood." He leaped forward and jabbed toward Brom's abdomen. Brom swayed out of the way and retaliated, but both blows bounced off their respective wards.

The Ra'zac went on, "Asss you would die to protect any of your friends, ssso too would I die to protect my sissster. If ssshe and one of our older brothers sssurvive, our race may endure."

"Why would I allow that?" Brom demanded, again dodging as he swung toward the smaller female Ra'zac. "You kill humans at will in this land. That's unacceptable." Both Ra'zac swirled to end beside each other and simultaneously jumped forward. Brom sprang back toward the quarter deck stairs to avoid the blades and whirled in the long boat's direction, now slicing at his larger opponent's neck.

"What if we left?" his foe suggested. "Would you consssider sssparing usss?"

Brom had no time to consider anything before the Shade darted up the gangplank and slashed hard down his back. More energy left the stone in his sword as his wards protected him. Then Brin flew through the air over his head, yelling in surprise as she unintentionally became the larger Lethrblaka's second opponent. Brom had no clue where Var was.

 _Focus_ , Brom ordered. _She has armor. She's a better fighter._

Brom's contestants stopped speaking with him, and he guessed the Shade had once again replenished her magic to coerce them. Their glassy black eyes glinted resentfully, and Brom experienced a conflicted feeling of sympathy. Though he had no love for Ra'zac, he also believed no creature should be compelled against its will. These four monsters would likely not even be here if not for the Shade and her overzealous hatred of Dragon Riders.

Brom was aware of the Shade leaping past him over the long boat toward the hatch, and he shouted for Will to stop her. He blocked the Shade's spell to rip off Will's arms, then a new development claimed his spare attention while he still dedicated the majority to his reluctant adversaries.

Nefin sprinted into sight with Keeta in his arms, blood dripping from her back. He dashed down the wooden pier, Hanna close behind, and carefully laid Keeta on her side. Hanna knelt down next to Keeta while Nefin sprang up. As he darted toward the street, he yelled to Brom, "Gerik and a dwarven army are chasing us! They're controlled by the Shade and immune to pain! We won't last long! They'll swarm the ship!" When Ajh appeared between the warehouses, Nefin ran up next to him, bow and arrows at the ready.

 _We must kill the Shade!_ Brom urgently thought. His panic rapidly increased when he felt his stone drain of all energy. In his moment of distraction, the Shade had stolen all of the energy sustaining their wards. Will's bellow of pain was the first signal that his friends could now be injured. Hanna's echoing cry of anguish confirmed her awareness of their susceptibility.

 _No!_ Brom despaired, trying to focus more intently on the Ra'zac. Every hit they landed would now cut his unprotected body. _At least Brin still has the steel-silk._

He grunted in surprise and the male Ra'zac produced a similar noise as each of their blades made contact. With nearly identical wounds—one red, the other metallic blue-green—blossoming diagonally across their chests, Brom and the Ra'zac staggered and fell to their knees.

"Flee, sissster!" the male Ra'zac chittered, and the female turned to do just that. At the same time, the larger Lethrblaka stopped attacking Brin and took flight after the female Ra'zac.

 _The Shade stopped protecting and controlling them!_ Brom realized, gasping at the pain of his injury. _Fall backward or you'll bleed to death more quickly!_

He toppled to his back, his legs awkwardly twisting underneath him while the male Ra'zac crumpled face down beside him.

 _I can sense her! She's in the hold! And now I can remove her wards, but who will stab her? Lena and the Caretakers are unarmed!_

"Brom!" Brin shrieked, just noticing he had fallen. Brom ignored her while she rushed to his side and collapsed beside him, cutting off pieces of his shredded shirt with her dagger so she could press the fabric over his wound. Instead, he feverishly worked to reverse the Shade's wards.

His energy dwindled dangerously, and Brom's eyelids fluttered shut as he willed himself to stay conscious long enough to complete this task.

"Take it," the dying Ra'zac coughed.

"What?" Brin harshly questioned.

Brom knew the creature addressed him when it continued, "Take my lassst energy. End my misery and ssstrengthen yourself. Defeat the Ssshade. Let my raccce survive."

Brom didn't hesitate to obey, knowing it was his only chance to prevail. He was astonished that the Ra'zac had acted with honor, willing to sacrifice himself for his sister and to help them succeed. He mentally grasped hold of the Ra'zac's living vitality and drained it away as gently as he could, somewhat grateful to know it would end the beast's suffering.

An immeasurable current of energy swelled inside of him, and Brom was stunned by the reminder of every living being's life force. He performed the spell that would stem the flow of blood from his chest but didn't fully heal the gash, saving all possible strength for removing Trianna's protection. He knew she had bolstered herself with their stones, and he couldn't afford to be outmatched right now.

"Brin," he rasped, and she acknowledged him with a tearful nod. "Go help Ajh and Nefin. With the steel-silk, you're better protected than anyone else. And better equipped to handle numerous enemies." Brom waited until Brin reluctantly complied, which thankfully didn't take long, then he returned his attention to his job.

* * *

 **Hanna**

Hanna fought her exhaustion as she healed Keeta's deep gashes. A sudden boost in her energy filled her with dread, though she should have been relieved. But she knew it meant that all of the wards she had cast to protect Ajh, Will, Var, and Swiftpaw were now gone. While she could no longer feel it drain away her energy, Hanna still _heard_ perfectly well as Will hollered in agony.

 _Where's Var!_ she frantically wondered. _He can't be dead. No one can die! Please, no more of my friends can die!_

She extended her mind, searching for any sign of Var, and her stomach clenched fearfully when she identified his fading vitality at the bottom of the harbor.

 _No!_ she defied. _I'm not letting you die, Var!_

With Keeta's injuries now whole, Hanna lithely dove over her and right into the murky sea. She guessed that Var's armor had weighed him down, and if he wasn't strong enough to swim with it on, she definitely wasn't strong enough to magically pull him up while he still wore it, especially without any reserves to borrow from. Using the spark of his mind to guide her, Hanna swam down toward her friend, sparing her magical efforts for when she reached him.

Then she lit the dark water with a spell and worked as quickly as she could in the aquatic environment to remove the heavy chain mail. Var began convulsing, and she knew he was drowning. _No, Var! No, you're not going to die!_

Hanna's lungs started to burn as her body experienced the same deprivation. She circled her arms around Var's broad chest and under both arms from behind, pushing herself off the bottom as she magically accelerated her swim back to the surface. She emerged with a gasp and waded back to the dock.

Hanna had no choice but to use magic to raise Var's heavy body up to the pier. Then she shakily pulled herself up after him, willing herself to stay aware long enough to attend to him. She knew the proper non-magical treatment in this situation, so in order to conserve her strength, she began the basic resuscitation efforts to pump his heart and breathe for him.

"Please, Var," she begged during her second round of chest compressions. "Don't give up. Life's still worth living."

Within two minutes, Var started coughing. Hanna cried out in relief and turned him on his side, then she jumped up and raced to the ship. _Now Will,_ she determined. _Something hurt him. No one can die!_

But one glance toward the street changed Hanna's plans. Innumerable dwarves swarmed out of the alleys between the warehouses nearest their ship, heading toward Nefin and Ajh. Her brother and friend—could she call Ajh her beau? Hanna didn't know, and that troubled her. She couldn't bear the thought of him dying without knowing the answer to that question, but how could she help?

 _I can't kill the dwarves,_ she fretted. _They aren't our real enemies. Many are Keeta's friends. I even recognize some from our visits to Tronjheim. But we really don't have a choice. Nefin and Ajh will fight until they're overwhelmed. Somehow I need to help stop the Shade._

She waffled for a second by the gangplank, and during this moment of indecision, the smaller Ra'zac and larger Lethrblaka abruptly left off fighting and hastily departed. But when the Ra'zac was almost immediately overcome by attacking dwarves, the Lethrblaka dove down to stand guard in front of her.

Seeing its siblings in danger, the smaller Lethrblaka—beakless, with one torn wing, a bloody eye socket, and several deep gashes on its legs—also abandoned the ship and hobbled over beside the larger beast. Hanna was confused until she grasped that the smaller beast endeavored to protect the larger, perhaps because it knew it was doomed.

 _They want to preserve their race,_ Hanna remembered. _Swiftpaw said something like that._

The Ra'zac hurriedly climbed to the larger Lethrblaka's back, but before it could take flight, countless dwarves surrounded it and started trying to hack it to pieces.

 _Aren't they on the same side?_ Hanna wondered, fascinated by what she was observing. The smaller Lethrblaka turned its back toward the oncoming horde and ignored the relentless onslaught of chopping axes as it joined its larger brother in snatching up the encircling dwarves with the nub of its beak and tossing them into the harbor.

 _He's sacrificing himself_ , Hanna thought with tears filling her eyes. _And trying to allow his siblings to escape. Am I willing to do something equally unpleasant—at least in my mind—by killing these enemies?_

She couldn't bear to watch the butchery any longer, but she resolved to help at the same moment Brin rushed by her toward the battle on the street. Casting about for anything useful, her eyes fell on Brin's discarded bow and arrows near the gangway.

 _I'll help Ajh and Nefin_ , Hanna decided, sweeping up the weapons and nocking the first arrow right where she stood. _And keep any dwarves from coming onto this dock where Var and Keeta are or from boarding the ship. This way I won't lose any more energy using magic._

She wasn't as fast as Nefin, but she was nearly as good of a shot when standing still, and every one of Hanna's arrows found their mark in a hapless dwarves' eye.

* * *

 **Will**

"Will!" Brom shouted. "Stop her! She's going for Lena and the Caretakers!"

Will's heart froze, and he instantly turned toward the hatch. Recklessly lunging forward, he tossed his sword to his left hand and caught a handful of maroon tresses in his right just as the Shade's head disappeared through the opening. Driven by a motivation stronger than his survival instinct, Will heaved the devil back onto the main deck.

Her angry spell was fruitless thanks to Brom's timely intervention, but Will's luck ended there. He began to wrench the Shade backward, but the Lethrblaka snaked forward and snapped his wrist in its razor sharp beak. Skin and bone gave way like soft butter under a knife, and just like that, Will's right hand was no longer part of him.

A tortured cry tore from his throat, and Will only narrowly dodged the monster's next attack. He shoved the bleeding stump of his arm in his pocket, unable to think of another way to apply pressure under the circumstances. This action exacerbated his pain exponentially, but Will had to keep fighting if he didn't want his head to follow his hand. Equally coordinated with his left hand, he swung out toward the Lethrblaka as it once again pecked down.

A surge of fierce defiance rushed through him as the blade effortlessly sliced through the Lethrblaka's best weapon. The beak flew off the starboard side of their ship and plunked into the harbor.

"How do you like _that_?" Will hollered as he jumped forward to carve a new pattern in the Lethrblaka's crippled wing. The beast roared in agony and reared back, sending the ship into another fit of wild pitching.

One clawed foot struck out and raked along the front of his body. Will chopped at the leg and foot while it was within range, and his armor protected his torso. But where it ended, three deep gashes opened Will's left thigh. As metallic teal-colored blood gushed out of the Lethrblaka's injuries, thick crimson liquid spurted from Will's leg. The blue-green gore splattered all over him, and his freshly opened wound burned like acid as the monster's blood mixed with his.

Will screamed again at this new torment and collapsed, rolling toward his right as the Lethrblaka again stabbed a clawed foot forward. As his body weight compressed his injured right arm, Will almost blacked out. Resigned to his fate of being shredded to ribbons, Will exerted his last strength to remain conscious. But, miraculously, the Lethrblaka deserted the fight at that precise moment and returned to the street. Unable to comprehend much more than a vague sense of relief through the fire of his injuries, Will dropped his head to the deck and focused on breathing.

Then he reached down with his left hand and tried to cover the gaping lacerations on his leg, but his hand didn't even cover a quarter of the damage. _Sorry, Lena. I tried to be careful. Lena! The Shade went down there!_

Will attempted to sit up and immediately slouched back down, dizzy from blood loss and starting to feel feverish. _Is Lethrblaka blood poisonous to a human?_ he wondered. _Or am I more of an Urgal? Maybe it only poisons human-Urgal half breeds, and no one ever knew because Var and I are the first two. Oh no! Where's Var!_

Will worriedly realized he was delirious and stubbornly concentrated on the matter at hand. _How will I help Lena?_

"Lena," he croaked, unable to move.

 _Will?_ a small, weak voice thought.

Swiftpaw! Will had all but forgotten about the brave werecat. After fearlessly pouncing on the Lethrblaka's face and scratching out one of its eyes, the fiend had repaid the werecat by shaking her from its head. She had slammed into the fore mast and slid down to the deck beneath. Obscured from the fighting around her, no one had paid her any mind since.

But maybe she was the answer now!

"Swiftpaw!" Will exclaimed. "Are you hurt? The Shade went after Lena! Someone needs to help her! I can't . . . can't move." He hated to admit that he was incapable of helping his wife.

Then Will heard Brom. "I'll heal her, Will. She might be the only one fit enough to make it through the hatch in time."

 _No!_ the werecat disagreed. _It should be Will. If you heal anyone, heal him. He's more important to Lena._

"There isn't time!" Will almost yelled. "Don't argue, Swiftpaw! Hurry, Brom!"

Brom must have agreed. He performed the magic to mend the werecat's broken legs. As Swiftpaw quickly arose, Brom cried, "Catch this!"

Brom flicked one of Brin's daggers through the air, and Swiftpaw caught it in her teeth as she nimbly arched over the long boat and right down the hatch in one graceful leap. _Only a cat_ , Will admired, impressed. _Lena's in good hands._

Then his eyes closed as his awareness faltered.

* * *

 **Lena**

Lena huddled on the floor beside the bed in Keeta and Nefin's small room, leaning back into it with her knees drawn up to her chest. The Caretakers carelessly lounged across the bed behind her, seemingly unconcerned that Lena's husband and closest friends were fighting to protect their lives right above them.

Lena's tolerance for the three ancient beings required to reinstate the Dragon Rider pact was at an all-time low. Maybe she would never understand their apathy unless she lived to be over a thousand years old, but she hated how little they cared about the affairs of people in their world. Perhaps they actually _wished_ a catastrophe would send them into the void, according to their beliefs. Lena was glad to believe that souls continued to exist in some form after their physical death. At times like this, when death felt so close, it was comforting.

She also found comfort in the reassurance provided by her ring. So far, the temperature had remained fairly constant. Slight peaks alerted her to Will's minor emotional upsets, but the deviations were far smaller than they ever had been while they were apart. Then, her ring had almost always been too warm because Will was always so worried about her safety. But Lena was relieved that her ring had not yet felt cold, which she took as a reliable sign that Will had not been injured.

 _Be careful, stay hidden,_ Lena recited to remind herself of their promises. He would be careful, she would stay hidden. Then when it was all over, he would come down to get her and tell her they had won. The Shade would be gone, and so would the Ra'zac and Lethrblaka. They would sail home, reverse Tenga's curse, and destroy Bid'Daum. Then some of the Riders—without her or Will's involvement—would return Iduna and Nёya to the elves and Lena would never need to see them again.

 _Unless we happen to attend the next Blood-oath Celebration,_ Lena absently thought. Surely the elves would do something to honor her friends for their essential role in protecting and restoring the Dragon Rider treaty.

But if they did attend, that was still over sixty years away. Lena would be an old woman by then. She and Will would have the choice of living indefinitely in Alagaёsia, according to the promises extended to the Dragon Riders by Ellei-an and Gelarik at the time of Brom's birth. However, Lena felt like her mother and father and didn't picture herself desiring an immortal life.

She much preferred imagining the near future—her pregnancy, growing baby, and becoming a mother. Will would be a wonderful father, just like his father, and Lena was so excited thinking of him with their little baby, whom she suspected was a son.

She spent the seemingly endless minutes of her wait dwelling on these pleasant thoughts. The only disquieting moments occurred when the ship began pitching. Down here in the hold, Lena knew the motion was much less noticeable than it would have been on the main deck, and she tried to push the image of Will contending with a vicious Lethrblaka from her mind.

When enough time had passed that Lena realistically thought her friends might have triumphed—she refused to entertain the alternative—she began to feel impatient.

 _Will, where are you? Please hurry. I can't bear this uncertainty._ Lena stood and began pacing. Then, without warning, her ring froze icy cold and she was sure she could hear Will's corresponding howl of agony.

Her heart reacted in the same manner as it turned to ice, and her finger ached from the extreme chill of her band.

 _It's never been this cold!_ Lena panicked. _Something terrible just happened._ Unbidden, dozens of horrifying possibilities began racing through her mind, and Lena hurried toward the door.

With her hand on the knob, she stopped. Will's words rang through her mind as if he was there in person, reminding her of her vow: _Stay hidden!_ As he had hinted that morning, Lena knew it would be far worse for him if she appeared on the main deck as the perfect unarmed and unprotected target. How easy would it be for the Shade or any of her minions to snuff out her life? Without any guarantee of his destruction, would Bid'Daum still uphold his agreement of sustaining the Caretakers and restoring the Dragon Riders?

Lena knew Brom and the elves could reestablish the Riders without her assistance, but she wasn't certain whether it could be done without _Bid'Daum's_ assistance and she was even less confident that he would simply help out of a sense of altruism. He wanted something in return, and Lena had promised to give it. For this reason Will had insisted she stay out of harm's way. She couldn't let him down.

Another frosty stab engulfed her hand, and Lena's eyes filled with tears. _He_ is _being careful,_ she realized. _Yet he's still getting hurt. Not on purpose. Never on purpose when he knows about our baby. Please, Will. Please come back to me._

Iduna and Nёya looked over—not when Lena stood and started moving around, not when she almost left, not when she started crying, but now—when a chilling voice seeped through the door from the hold.

"Oh, Lena," it called in a singsong way. "Where are you, princess? Won't you let an old friend in?"

 _The Shade!_ Lena cried, instinctively bracing herself against the door, though she knew it was pointless. Trianna would enter just as soon as she wished. _How did she get down here?_

"Who is that?" Iduna distantly asked.

"As if you care," Lena snapped, unable to restrain herself. She was helpless to defend the Caretakers, and Bid'Daum also couldn't aid them or the Shade would be free to use his power as well.

She whimpered as the door slowly pushed open behind her, then she whirled around and stood in front of the elven sisters, arms protectively outstretched to either side.

As the door swung fully inward, revealing blood red eyes glowing from a pasty angular face as pale as death, Lena unconsciously cowered down. No wonder the Shade was the starring character in her worst nightmares. She couldn't conceive of anything more terrifying than that ghastly countenance.

"Hello, Your Highness," Trianna sweetly purred. "How I've missed seeing your lovely face." The Shade closed the small distance between them in one step, lifting one skeletally thin hand and dragging a single claw-like fingernail across Lena's cheek just firmly enough to slice a shallow cut in her skin.

Trianna waited a moment, her finger at the ready, then swiped it across the slit to gather the beading blood. She smirked mockingly as she raised her hand and languidly licked the red liquid from her fingertip.

"Delicious," she murmured. "I can't wait to taste the rest."

Lena said nothing, unwilling to reveal how purely petrified she was right then. _He'll come. Nothing would keep him from protecting me. Unless. . . . No! He's not dead! My ring is still cold._

"Are you thinking of your beloved?" Trianna casually ventured, drinking in the palpable terror in the room. "I don't think he'll be coming. He may be feeling somewhat shorthanded at the moment." She dissolved into a fit of morbid chuckling that she seemed unable to control, and Lena couldn't understand what was so funny.

The Shade tossed a solid object on the floor in front of her feet, and Lena looked down. Stark understanding gripped her as she recognized Will's right hand. She clamped her lips together when they started trembling and also to keep the bile down.

Lena shook her head, blinking back tears. _He'll bleed to death. Please let Hanna find him in time._

"Now," the Shade continued in a crisp, uncaring tone. "Since I'm sure you would rather not live without him, how about we end your life at the same time? How shall we do it, dear princess? Would you like a say in the manner of your death? Should we slit your throat? That one is nice and messy. Or stop your heart? No, too easy and sterile. Hmmm. Break your neck? Suffocate or strangle you? Tear off your limbs and watch you writhe until you bleed to death? Wait, I have it! Ever since my time in Ilirea when I was so privileged to oversee the growing Ra'zac—now the Lethrblaka, of course—I have been dreadfully curious what it would be like to eat someone alive. Maybe I will try the experiment with you, Your Highness. I've even sharpened my teeth and fingernails to make it possible. Let us begin."

Lena's knees gave out as the Shade reached forward and seized her by the neck. Dragging her forward, Trianna parted her thin, bloodless lips to reveal two rows of needle teeth, sharpened to fine points just as she had promised.

Lena choked on a scream as she futilely fought the Shade's inhuman strength, beating against her chest and shoulders until she was too close to maneuver. Her feet dangled above the floor as Trianna grabbed her by one shoulder and released her neck, closing that hand around a fistful of hair as she jerked Lena's head back to bare a stretch of her throat.

 _Is she_ really _going to drink my blood?_ Lena wondered in shock as the Shade lowered her face and inhaled almost lovingly along her neck. Her skin crawled in absolute horror, then all feelings of revulsion abruptly gave way to disbelief as—over Trianna's shoulder—Lena witnessed a tawny blur streak down the ladder toward the open doorway behind the Shade.

 _Swiftpaw!_ The werecat sprang through the air just as the Shade pressed her teeth against Lena's skin. In midstride she transformed from cat to girl, who snatched the dagger from her mouth and landed on the Shade's back with cat-like lightness, using her leaping momentum to drive the small knife straight into Trianna's heart.

The Shade had no prior warning of the attack. As the blade plunged home, she sharply sucked in her breath and dropped Lena on the floor. Lena couldn't resist watching as her enemy groped fruitlessly at her chest, gouging deep wounds with her razor sharp claws. Protruding from the middle of her back, the blade was inaccessible.

The Shade violently jabbed her hands out and threw back her head, uttering an unearthly wail that raised the hairs on Lena's arms. The slight color in Trianna's skin entirely faded, leaving a transparent film stretched over pulsating swirls of darkness. Her final shriek forcefully burst forth as the weak human shell exploded outward under the pressure of half a dozen furious spirits escaping their unwanted prison.

The orbs zoomed around the room once before finding the exit and racing toward the daylight visible through the hatch. The dagger responsible for the Shade's demise dropped tip first into the wood floor inches away from Lena's feet, quivering as if enraged before falling still. Not even a scrap of Trianna's clothing remained, and Lena supposed the angry spirits must have consumed all evidence of their detested existence.

Swiftpaw was once again a werecat when Lena crawled over to her and squeezed her in a tight embrace.

"Thank you, dear friend," Lena fervently breathed.

 _Go to Will_ , the werecat urgently responded. The insistence in her voice filled Lena with fear, and she immediately obeyed without sparing the Caretakers so much as a backward glance.

* * *

 **Ajh**

Ajh waited in building anticipation for the dwarven army to catch up. He had started running right when Nefin instructed him to, though he hated leaving Hanna behind. But he couldn't argue with the fact that they were both faster than he, as was clear when they _still_ passed him up after Nefin fetched Keeta.

But by the time Nefin had deposited Keeta in the only relatively safe location near so much fighting and returned to the street, Ajh was ready to help him. His friend stopped beside him and tersely explained, "As we were running back, Hanna magically blocked every alley we passed so they would only be able to exit the street starting here. It will create a bottleneck and improve our odds, at least temporarily."

"Can they go between the warehouses farther down?" Ajh questioned.

"Yes, so I'll face that way—" Nefin cut off as the first dwarf puffed into sight. Ajh heard the regret in his voice as he released his first arrow directly into the young man's eye and said, "We don't have a choice, Ajh." Another arrow. "There's no way to stop them unless we kill them." Three more arrows. The dwarves were still twenty feet away, now tripping over their fallen companions. "Trying to cripple them won't work because they can't feel it." Five more arrows. "If we hesitate, they'll swiftly overrun us."

Ajh didn't plan to hesitate. Not when the girl he loved and his sister were less than thirty feet away and hesitating would mean allowing them to die. If he and Nefin could keep the army at bay long enough for their friends to succeed, the remaining dwarves would be released from their magical bonds.

Nefin shot ten more arrows before the dwarves were too close and Ajh could help with his sword. If only twenty arrows had been sufficient to make a dent, but dozens more opponents waited behind for the way to open before them.

With their shoulders almost touching, Ajh and Nefin repeatedly cut down each new wave to reach them. Soon they stood atop a growing pile of bodies. Ajh began to feel the fatigue of this gruesome exercise and knew Nefin did too. If not for his mad sprint to rescue Keeta and all of his magical exertions, Nefin would undoubtedly be in far better shape. But as it was, he and Ajh were in a similar state of exhaustion and despair.

"At least they aren't coming out farther down!" Ajh shouted a few minutes in.

"They are," Nefin barked in return.

"Are you holding them off?"

"The Lethrblaka. Be careful! Our wards just disappeared!"

Ajh didn't have an opportunity to respond before the next round of dwarves scampered up the slippery slope of their fallen comrades.

"I'm here!" Brin exclaimed, jogging up beside them. She swept the nearest enemies aside, and Ajh gasped in a few deep breaths.

"Thank you," he panted.

Brin didn't reply, but his brief respite allowed Ajh to notice when new arrows began sprouting from the dwarves' eyes.

He quickly looked over at Nefin, who yelled, "Hanna's helping. But what's taking so long?"

"I can't stand much more of this," Ajh desperately confessed, not entirely avoiding an axe blade headed his way. The sharp steel glanced off his sword and grazed his unprotected arm, opening a deep gash. Ajh growled at the pain and finished, "We're killing people who aren't even our enemies."

"I know. And there's Gerik. Keeta will be heartbroken if he dies under these circumstances."

Their dwarf friend and fellow Dragon Rider struggled up the small hill with an abnormally hateful glint in his eye. "So you married her?" Gerik spat at Nefin, swiping out with his axe.

Nefin didn't answer. Jumping over the swinging axe, he used his hilt to sharply knock Gerik on one temple. Gerik staggered as his eyes crossed, but—immune to the pain—he maintained his footing and viciously retaliated. Nefin blocked the strike enough to keep his leg, but as the axe bypassed his sword blade, it partially sank into his calf.

Nefin cried out and dropped down, almost succumbing to the onrushing horde. Then the dwarves abruptly stopped advancing. They collectively closed and reopened their eyes as if awakening from a deep sleep, looking around in confusion.

"It's over," Nefin gasped. "They did it. Let's take care of those two before they escape."

Still on his knees, he removed his bow from his back and nocked an arrow, aiming for the larger Lethrblaka's eye.

"No!" Hanna screamed. "Nefin, don't kill them!"

Nefin didn't lower his bow, but he also didn't shoot. The Lethrblaka seemed to sense that Nefin could kill it by releasing his arrow, so the elf kept his eye on his target and curtly asked, "Why not, Hanna?"

"They never wanted to fight! Haven't we done enough unnecessary killing? They only want to survive, just like us."

"That's true," Brom seconded, limping toward them from the pier. "The male Ra'zac sacrificed himself to save his sister and allowed me to use his vitality to defeat the Shade. All he asked in return was to let them survive. As long as they leave." He looked toward the surviving Lethrblaka, crouched beside his slaughtered smaller brother with the female Ra'zac astride his shoulders. "Will you leave Alagaёsia and never return?"

 _Yes, young Dragon Rider,_ an intelligent cold voice responded in their minds. _Why would we return when doing so would mean certain death? We are at your mercy now and would be even more so if each of your dragons was here._

"Where will you go?" Brom demanded.

 _Across the sea. Distant relatives may remain in the land of our parentage._

"You would cross the ocean despite your deep fear?"

 _What choice have we? We will do what we must._

"Then go," Brom wearily allowed.

As the Lethrblaka spread its injured wings and laboriously leaped into the air, Nefin slowly lowered his bow.

"Look at you all!" Hanna cried, rushing forward. "Everyone's wounded. Let me help—"

"Hanna, go to Will," Brom interrupted. "He's in bad shape, but I'm too drained from my last contest with the Shade and I don't know how to help him. He might be poisoned."

Hanna's face paled and she turned without another word to dash for the ship.

-:-:-:-

* * *

 **A/N (12/30/16):** Phew! That's all I can say after that. I hope that kept you on the edge of your seat and didn't seem as long as it was thanks to the frequent shifts. Thank you to my friend HyliasChosen, whose wishful comment about dealing with the Ra'zac without exterminating them inspired the way I incorporated them in the battle. It was much better, I think, than it otherwise would have been.


	128. Part III 29 Goodbye, Love

**29\. Goodbye, Love**

Var slowly opened his eyes, expecting to be blinded by bright light until Zadí's face could fill his vision. When he plummeted into the harbor, he had _tried_ to swim back toward the ship where he could help Will and die like a hero. But the force of his fall and the weight of his armor had rendered him totally incapable, and he had eventually stopped fighting the inevitable pull.

He had held his breath until the unbearable burn in his lungs absolutely required him to breathe. The burn of sucking in a lungful of saltwater was almost worse than the oxygen deprivation. Drowning wouldn't have been his top choice of how to die, but he wasn't picky. At least he hadn't killed himself.

So now he fully anticipated the beautiful moment of reunion with his sweet wife and baby girl. They had been apart less than two months.

As his eyes focused, Var struggled to understand the scene before him. A shimmering gray backdrop lay behind a small curled up shape right in front of him. He blinked and looked again, now discerning a tangle of short golden hair.

 _Keeta?_ he wondered in bemusement. _Did she die too?_

Var pushed himself upright and glanced around. _I'm on the dock. How? How did I get out? Where is my armor?_

A weak voice, barely audible over the din of the fighting on the street, just reached Var's ears. But it was Will's voice saying his name, so Var heard. Or maybe he simply sensed his twin summoning him.

Var stumbled to his feet and staggered toward the ship, clearing his throat to combat the residual burn of the seawater.

He dragged himself up the gangplank and around the long boat toward the bow, feeling weak from his recent brush with death. But he nonetheless managed to reach Will, and Var's heart constricted in his chest as his eyes fell upon his twin.

His skin looked thin and papery with a sickly greenish tint, and his eyes were sunken in. A pool of red blood with ribbons of blue-green liquid interspersed throughout surrounded Will's body. He was bleeding to death.

"Will!" Var cried, falling to his knees at his brother's right side. "Will, open your eyes! No, Will, stay with me!"

Will's eyes unexpectedly snapped open, burning with a desperate fervor as he reached across himself with his left hand to clasp Var's hand. "Var! Take my ring! Take it!"

Var quickly did as Will asked, though he didn't understand. The ring easily slid off Will's finger, which was slick with blood.

"Now give me yours," Will demanded. "And put mine on." His eyes squeezed shut, and the pained grimace deepened.

Var shook his head. "Why, Will? Stay with me, brother. Please. I can't go through this again."

"Do it!" Will sharply commanded. So Var slid his brother's blue ring on his finger and was surprised to feel the intense burn from the band. Then he slipped his own wedding ring on Will's finger.

"She's _your_ wife, Var," Will panted, forcing himself to speak clearly in spite of his body's condition. "Take care of Lena. Please. Protect her. Keep her warm and safe. She gets cold and has nightmares. She needs you. Love her, Var. Please. Love her when you can. I know you can because we're identical, and I've loved her for as long as I can remember. You will too, in time. You deserve to be a husband and father, so be that for Lena and my baby."

Var disbelievingly shook his head, unable to comprehend what he was hearing. This was wrong, all wrong! He was supposed to die, not Will! "But she doesn't love me! She loves you! She wants you! You deserve to be a husband and father too."

"Promise me, Var!" Will ordered. "I'm dead. It's too late. You're the only one I trust enough. Swear you'll protect her!"

"I promise," Var numbly vowed. "I'll protect Lena."

"And love her," Will reminded in a whisper, fading fast now that he had Var's word. "When you can . . ."

Var couldn't tear his eyes away from Will's tortured face, not even when Lena's horrified scream pierced his ears. She scrambled out of the hatch and across the deck on her hands and knees.

"Will!" she gasped, helplessly patting his face and chest, running her fingers down his right arm, over his left leg. "No! Please, my love! Please don't leave me!"

"Lena," Will choked, his voice now slurring. "Var's your husband. He'll take care of you . . . and baby."

"No," Lena moaned, collapsing on top of him as he roughly exhaled, ever closer to death. "No, Will. I want you. Stay with me. Please, love. Please." Her hopeless begging dissolved into hopeless sobbing.

Var still couldn't look away from his twin's death mask. _That's how I would look._ Not even when Hanna rushed up beside him and asked him to move. He scooted sideways, eyes always on Will. _You're not dead. Not dead. This is some horrible nightmare. When it ends, I'll wake up and be with Zadí._

Hanna frantically began ministering to him, magically forcing his heart and lungs to keep functioning. Lena lifted her face away from Will's chest in crazed desperation, and he coughed an awful, hacking cough.

Hanna drew blood out of the soaked wood and tried filtering out the debris. "It's contaminated with Lethrblaka blood, which seems to have poisoned him," she despaired. "He lost too much. This blood isn't clean. I can't create new blood from thin air."

"Take mine," Var immediately offered. "Can you somehow give him mine?"

"I . . . I don't know how," Hanna confessed. "And I haven't the strength to restore his hand."

"Hanna," Will croaked, "it's all right. Let me go. I'm a mess. Bury me at sea, Var. Take them home, captain."

Hanna shook her head, refusing to believe that Will was beyond saving. "Maybe Bid'Daum will help me!" she feverishly proposed. "Maybe he knows what to do and would lend me some energy now that the Shade is gone! Bid'Daum! Please help me save my friend! Please, noble and wise dragon!"

Lena joined in the supplication, "Bid'Daum, please mighty one! Please save Will! Please, I beg of you! Help my friend save my husband!"

Both girls carried on in this manner for several long moments before Hanna stopped, her face frozen in incredulous shock. Lena's hardened in unsurprised resignation and animosity.

"Why won't he help?" Hanna wailed. "He could save Will! I can't lose another friend!"

" _You_ can't lose another _friend_?" Var suddenly shouted, making Hanna jump in fright. "What about _me!_ I lost my wife and now my twin brother? Where are you whenever someone I love more than my own life is dying! You'll save your boyfriend and brother and sister-in-law, but not the most important people in _my_ life!"

Hanna's eyes filled and overflowed with tears. "But I saved _you,_ " she faintly defended.

" _You_ saved _me?_ " Var spluttered as understanding cleared his earlier confusion. "Why! _I want to die!_ "

"Var," Will breathed, and Var jerked his face back toward his brother. "Now you have a reason to live. You have Lena. It has to be this way for your sake. Don't blame Hanna."

Hanna sagged forward as the magic she used to unnaturally prolong Will's life took its toll on her strength. From behind them, Brom spoke the words that would release her, since she seemed unwilling to stop on her own.

"Hanna, it's not your fault," he gently comforted, kneeling down beside her to gingerly catch her as she fell. Var barely noticed his blood-drenched shirt and gaping chest wound. "You did your best, and so did Will. We all did. Honor him now by letting him go. He's suffering."

With her vitality clearly so diminished, Hanna couldn't have revived Will now even though she wanted to.

His face peaceful, Will spoke in the most lucid voice since Var had arrived. Laying his left hand over Lena's, he softly said, "I love you, honey. Be happy with him. We're alike in more ways than appearance."

Lena attempted a brave smile, though her lips trembled and her face twisted. "I love you, Will. Goodbye, love."

Then his hand slid off and his head lolled sideways. Will's eyes drifted shut and once the air left his lungs, they didn't fill again. He was dead.

* * *

 **A/N:** I'm not gonna repeat all the stuff about how hard this chapter was for me. Now you understand why it took a lot out of me. You know how many hours I devoted to these last three chapters (I mentioned something about countless, right?), so take a few seconds and let me know what you thought.


	129. Part III 30 Broken

**30\. Broken**

Var stared at Will's face for what felt like an eternity, always mentally praying the same supplication: _Please bring him back. Please take me instead. I wanted to die. Save my brother._

Something responded internally, _We did not_ take _him. He freely gave his life out of love for you, knowing nothing less would save you._

 _If a life is required, I offer mine!_ Var rejoined. _Please!_

No reply this time, if there even had been one before. Var couldn't tell if he was hearing another voice in his mind or just attempting to reason with himself. The torment of losing Will threatened his sanity.

During this indeterminate span, dozens of memories of him and Will rushed through his mind. The first one, which Var doubted he could actually remember, was of their birthday. But the fairth made on that occasion—showing him and his twin holding hands as they snuggled with their parents—allowed him to know that he and Will loved each other from the start.

 _We were best friends from birth_ , Will always said.

One-year-old Will paraded through his mind, dragging Var along by the hand as they went to visit their father's dragon. _Com'on, Vaw-wee!_ Will exclaimed in his tiny baby voice. _Wes go see Bwack Funder!_

Neither of them had been able to correctly pronounce _Rs_ or _Ls_ for several years and had always substituted a _W_ -sound instead. They had jokingly persisted calling one another "Wiw-wee" and "Vaw-wee" into their teens, just as they continued to insist on calling Rhunön the elf smith, "Auntie Woonon."

More memories from the time right after their first birthday visited Var, these more solidified, as they revolved around the day his father was dead and had been reinforced by their mother's retellings. _Hewp mama!_ Will proudly declared after an abnormally long nursing session. Var had many fond memories of nursing, since he and Will had done so until they were five. However, Will's next sentiments weren't happy, but concerned. _Dada cowd. Mama sad._ Will had always been specially attuned to other people's needs and feelings.

 _Dada sweep?_ Will anxiously wondered in Var's mind. _No! No say bye-bye!_

Pain knifed through Var. _I can't do this again! I won't just let you go, Will! Please!_ he desperately repeated. _Please bring him back! Please save my brother!_

But nothing happened. Taking a deep breath and attempting to convey the proper humility, Var decided to be more specific. _Rahna, Bolvek, please hear me. Please restore Will. I know you can. You revived my father. I have faith that you can perform this miracle. I can't lose my brother. I don't know how to be me without him._

Though he had no way of really knowing how much passed, Var waited what seemed like a reasonable length of time for an answer or some type of heavenly visitation. But still nothing happened. Except for more unwanted memories taunting him. Unwanted because they reminded him how inseparable he and Will were, and Will had just died.

Moments from their childhood, when they played with each other all day long. Their sixth birthday, when they finally got two little sisters. _Happy birthday, Lena!_ Will cheerfully cried. Even at that young age, he had already loved her in an innocent way. _Mother's going to have the babies on our birthday! It will be the best birthday present ever!_ Will always spread joy wherever he went.

 _It_ is _really exciting,_ Lena had agreed.

 _She's yours, Will,_ Var thought. _Always has been. I can't replace you. I don't want to! I want_ my _wife. Your wife wants_ you!

Many notable moments from their countless days, weeks, months, and years building their ship together returned to Var. Then the morning they discovered that they had started growing horns flashed through his mind with stark clarity.

 _Var, what did you put on my pillow last night?_ Will complained.

 _I was wondering the same thing_ , Var said, turning toward Will's bed. _Did you sleep walk into the corner of a cupboard or something last night? You have some lovely bumps on your forehead_.

 _Look who's talking_ , Will griped.

Rather than smile fondly as he should at this remembrance, Var's agony deepened unbearably. How could he feel humor at a time like this? Would he ever smile again without Will? Not likely.

Now the day they became Dragon Riders popped into his head.

 _Hi_ , they both began after they had approached the tables with dragon eggs. They laughed and looked at each other.

 _You first_ , Will continued. _You_ are _older_. He and Var had laughed again.

So Var went on, _It's Var again. We've met a hundred times. At least, we've spoken to your eggs plenty. We're thirteen now. Don't know if that makes a difference_. He stopped, expectantly glancing at Will.

 _And I'm here too_ , Will had said. _As usual_. But he wouldn't be there "as usual" anymore. Nor would they laugh together anymore.

 _We've always done everything together_ , Var despaired, also remembering the Youth Camps and how Will had often joked about being Var. He recalled how they had both gone together to ask permission to marry Zadí and Lena. Will had joked around then too. Always being silly and making people laugh, he was everyone's best friend. But above all, he was Var's best friend. Var didn't even know how to quantify his love for his twin brother except to notice that now Will was dead, his whole body felt hollow.

Lena still lay sobbing on Will's chest. His face also covered in tears, Ajh had dropped down across from Var by Will's other shoulder, stroking his sister's hair with one hand. _That should be me,_ Var realized. _Will trusted me to take care of her._

Swiftpaw in her young girl form stood on Lena's other side, holding a small bundle in her hands. Tears streamed down her face as she slowly sank down next to her human friend and placed the item on Will's abdomen.

 _His hand_ , Var apathetically guessed, noting one bloodied edge of the cloth wrapping.

Brin had knelt beside Brom. Both were crying.

Hanna was unconscious, but she would definitely be crying if she were aware.

 _I_ made _her cry,_ Var mechanically thought, feeling no twinge of regret.

He looked around for Nefin or Keeta and didn't see them, though he did observe an unexpected face.

 _Rhunön,_ he unemotionally recognized, no surprise creasing his brow. _She must have come like she did when father died. By using the spell in Will's sword. Will always held a special place in her heart. Fitting of her to come now. She must have only just arrived for no one else to notice. Nefin would have if he were here. Hanna too, most likely_.

Even the ancient elf woman wept for his twin brother from her position near his feet. But Var?

Var raised a hand to his face, confirming what he had already guessed. _Dry. No tears. How can I not be crying right now? Because I'm broken, that's how._

Zadí had only been a part of him—as his wife, at least—for six months, and when he lost her, part of Var broke. At the time, it felt like all of him, but now he knew it hadn't been.

Will had been a part of him since before he was born. In fact, they had sometimes joked that they must have been such good friends in whatever premortal realm they might have existed in prior to their birth that they decided to ensure their constant togetherness by being identical twins. Now that Will was gone, Var was sure he knew what it felt like to be utterly empty.

 _I can't_ feel _anything._

It was horrifying.

 _Would any of my friends be crying if that was me?_ he wondered. _No, they'd be relieved. They probably all_ wanted _me to die so they wouldn't have to deal with my moping anymore._

 _But Hanna cared enough to save you_ , part of his brain stubbornly reminded, fighting the idea that—in his crazed grief—had taken root in Var's mind. _And Will, obviously. He died to save you._

 _No, he died because his hand got bitten off,_ Var retorted. _And it didn't work anyway! He didn't save me! I only want to die even more now!_ He abruptly stood to test his theory. None of his friends so much as glanced over. Nefin would have noticed, so Var was vaguely grateful the elf wasn't onboard.

 _You felt some gratitude,_ his opposition desperately pointed out. _You can still feel._

 _Not good_ enough, Var defied. _They don't want me around and I don't want to be around. We're doing this together too, Will. Farewell, miserable life._

An unfamiliar female voice wafted through his mind, faintly informing, _We did not take Will or Zadí f_ _rom you, young Varhog. They_ gave _their lives out of love, a choice we cannot deny. But if you complete your design right now, you will be taking yourself away from your friends and family who still love you. Do not reject your most precious gift, even your life._

Hearing voices again. He _was_ going insane.

 _Then bring back my brother! He's my only family here now! My friends would rather I had died, so I'll do the favor for them!_

Talking to the voices? Insanity complete.

 _This outcome you desire of restoring your brother and wife is not part of your path_ , the other voice mysteriously and unhelpfully revealed.

 _Well perfect! That makes my choice easy! And who are you, anyway!_ _Rahna? Or am I really just raving mad now? What did I ever do to deserve this! Why do you hate me? If you're so big on letting people choose, I guess you won't stop me now!_

Var stalked toward the gangplank, snatching up a rope from the top of a barrel on his way. _That warehouse is tall enough. There must be a beam in there for me to use._

 _What about Will?_ the shrinking part of his mind asked as he strode up the dock toward the stone street. _His dying request was for you to take care of Lena. Remember Bid'Daum._

 _Who cares! Will's_ dead! _And Lena said herself that she doesn't want me. She wants Will! Like that good-for-nothing old dragon is really going to hurt her!_

 _What if your neck is too strong?_ the other half of his brain feebly resisted, apparently resigned to his choice. _Or the rope breaks?_

 _Good point. I'll take one of these axes too._ Var stooped down to grab one of the stray weapons from the street, ignoring the bloody butchery and the dwarves milling about in confusion as he went to end his life.

-:-:-:-

* * *

 **A/N (Jan. 8, 2017):** After discussing with my friend certain things coming up in the story (best friend privilege ;), she didn't think Var would attempt something like this. But she had just gotten through saying that everyone reaches a breaking point, and Var finally hit rock bottom. Yes, completely out of character when things were peachy. But not impossible at a time like this. I've known for months that Will would die and Var would feel this way. And I'm gonna leave you hanging as to what happens until next time.

All last week I thought about what was coming next in the story and wished for the opportunity to sit down and write. My life isn't necessarily "hectic," as one thoughtful reader recently put it, but it is busy. As much as I want to spend endless hours writing and finishing this story, my reality is four little boys, homeschool, a husband, my fitness and other goals, church responsibilities, etc. I'm not trying to complain and am actually very grateful for these blessings and this phase of my life. It's nice to be needed.

But that's just the thing. Oftentimes when I sit down to write, within minutes someone will need me. Or, as was the case last week, I didn't get to write at all until 4:00 am on Saturday morning when I couldn't sleep for thinking about this story and finally got out of bed because I had taken the laptop upstairs.

I would love to update more quickly. I would love to post a new chapter every day, but the truth is that there aren't anymore chapters written yet. So I thank you again for your patience. And I thank each of the fifteen or so people who reviewed last time (those with accounts and PM capabilities hopefully saw my individual messages of gratitude). This story gets almost 1,000 new views in between each update (almost up to 50,000), so I know people are reading and enjoying. Knowing that makes my day! As do new reviews, so please share your thoughts! ~Autumn

P.S. Srinand: I won't reply to your questions via A/N after this. I'm glad you like the story enough to say you're addicted to it, but I can't post any faster than I have been, for reasons stated above. You may not know, but I left a personalized A/N for you at the end of Part I (that would be Chapter 54) addressing your concern about the mature love scenes. And just because it didn't feel right to include a more detailed depiction of Nefin and Keeta's first time (I had something like that written long ago, but when I reread it at the chronological point in the story, it didn't seem to fit anymore), doesn't mean this story won't contain any more mature love. But I will always clearly mark any such scenes so you will know to skip them if you want.


	130. Part III 31 Intuition

**31\. Intuition**

Thousands of miles away, Var's father tossed uneasily in his large bed. Varhog slowly opened his eyes, loath to interrupt his nap. Willow lay facing him with her hand resting in his, but that was all the more touch she could bear these days with the incessant demands of feeding their two-month-old triplets.

Willow was often apologetic she couldn't tolerate more physical contact, though Varhog assured her he understood. He didn't feed the babies, but he often felt the same as she—namely, that he desired no more stimulation after otherwise attending to the babies around the clock.

Their almost fourteen-year-old twin daughters Willow Jr. and Monrow had literally saved their sanity during the past two months. However, even the girls' constant assistance still wasn't enough to satisfy the wants of their other five children and the triplets. Many of their friends on the Isle also helped out.

Every afternoon Varhog and the girls prepared lunch while Willow fed the babies—one by him or herself and the other two together. Then Willow Jr. and Monrow took the other youngsters outside to play or help in the gardens while one of their breastfeeding female friends came to tend the babies during their afternoon nap.

During this treasured time, Willow and Varhog retired alone to their bed to enjoy several uninterrupted hours of sleep. Whoever stayed with the babies—whether Elva, Maehrí, Nasuada, or Breetuk—never disturbed this coveted slumber. If one of the babies awakened and absolutely couldn't wait for Willow, then that day's babysitter fed them herself. With a break like this guaranteed each and every day, Willow and Varhog found they were able to endure the ever-changing and ever-insistent nighttime needs of their three babies.

Varhog wasn't sure how they had survived two consecutive sets of twins. Maybe he had simply had more energy in his thirties. But now, in his fifties and without a Dragon Rider bond to sustain his vitality, the sleep deprivation associated with caring for three two-month-old infants took a far greater toll. The odds of one couple having so many multiples were extremely low, and Varhog sometimes wondered if the unique combination of his Urgal and Willow's human cells was somehow responsible.

The demands were much more exacting on Willow, of course, as she was almost always feeding the babies. Now in her mid-forties, she also had less energy to manage the exhaustion, though she was grateful that she was mostly able to meet their nutritional requirements herself, so long as she fed them about once an hour. Her biggest regret was how little attention she was able to devote to their other five children besides the twin girls—Viola, Ray, Victor, Lilly, and Oliver. Varhog spent as much time with them as he could and the twins took care of their basic needs, but he knew that many of his other adult friends frequently filled in for him and Willow.

Between supporting their wives who came each afternoon, preparing them meals, and caring for the other children, _everyone_ actually participated in assisting Varhog and Willow, and his whole family was thriving. But he constantly worried for Will and Var.

A strange dream about them had actually awakened Varhog today. Or maybe his intuition had simply warned him that something was amiss with his oldest sons. Whatever the case, he knew all was not well with his firstborn twins.

More reluctant to awaken Willow than he had been to rouse himself, Varhog nonetheless gently stroked her hand and whispered, "Willow."

Her head shifted side to side, and she softly moaned, "Will." Then as her eyelids gradually fluttered open, fighting the heavy pull of fatigue, she stared at him and muttered, "Var. Something's wrong, Varhog."

"I sensed it too, Eartheyes."

"Who's here today?"

Varhog knew what she meant. "Maehrí. Perhaps not by coincidence. Shall we request that she scry one of her children?"

"Yes, please." Willow struggled to sit upright. Still recovering from the perilous birth and necessary medical intervention that had saved her life, she lacked her usual strength. When she was in high spirits and rested enough, Willow never failed to appreciate the fact that her current three babies would most definitely be her last.

"You stay here and continue resting," Varhog instructed, stroking her arm to encourage her to lie back down.

"Yes," Willow breathed again, submitting to his invitation. "I will. But hurry. Something's terribly wrong . . . with Var."

Varhog quickly got out of bed and crossed the room toward the door, grabbing his shirt draped across the back of an armchair on his way. Within moments he covered the distance down the hall between their bedroom and the main living area of their spacious quarters on the Isle of the Eldunarí.

Comfortably curled in a large lounge chair, Maehrí dozed right along with the four babies surrounding her. The triplets nestled together in the oversized crib Varhog had built for them, knowing they would likely sleep best in the early days if they were with one another. Maehrí's seven-month-old son napped stretched out on the cushion right next to her.

Knowing how precious sleep was to a mother with a baby, Varhog was just as hesitant to disturb Maehrí, but he remembered the urgency in Willow's voice. She had always had a very strong mother's intuition, and he knew by now to trust her when it came to such matters.

As he stopped beside the chair, Varhog laid one hand on the silver-haired elf's shoulder and softly said, "Maehrí."

Her eyes immediately opened, a reminder to Varhog that elves experienced a lighter state of sleep, and in a clear voice she answered, "Yes, Varhog?"

"Willow and I need you to scry one of your children. If you come to our room for a few minutes, will the babies be well out here?"

Maehrí nodded and smoothly arose from the chair without upsetting baby Hanin. She carefully lifted the cushion serving as her baby's bed and moved it to the floor, during which he remained peacefully asleep.

"So he won't be harmed if he rolls off," she quietly explained as she straightened, prepared to follow Varhog.

They retraced his steps back to the bedroom. Without prompting, Maehrí removed the small enchanted mirror from her pocket and approached the bed, perching right next to Willow.

"I'm here, dear friend," she gently said. "Who shall I scry?"

"Nefin," Willow confidently replied. "But don't say anything at first. I have a feeling I need to listen for the right moment."

Maehrí acknowledged Willow with a subtle dip of her chin. "Then I will initially make the spell only one-way. We will hear them, but they won't hear us. On your signal, I can open the connection on our end." She wordlessly performed the spell to contact her son's scrying mirror.

Varhog returned to his side of the bed and sat with one leg under him so he could face the two women.

Because Nefin's mirror was most likely stuffed into a pocket, muffled sounds of weeping were all that carried across the magically formed link. Varhog also suspected there was water near wherever Nefin was, though that was all the speculation he had time for.

They heard a young female voice. "What's wrong, Nefin. Why are you crying?"

During the pause Maehrí said, "Not Hanna. Perhaps Keeta." Varhog wouldn't have been able to identify either young woman. He was grateful for their elven friend's keen hearing.

"Will just died," Nefin choked in response.

Varhog felt a disbelieving expression cross his face while Willow let out a weak, heartbroken protest. Her eyes filled with tears as he scooted over to be closer to her and once again took her hand.

"My poor son," she cried, closing her eyes and sinking her head deeper into the pillow under it. "What about Var? First Zadí and now Will? His grief will be overwhelming. He needs help."

"Is now the right time?" Maehrí questioned.

"Not yet. Nefin can't know we're here yet."

Varhog didn't understand Willow's insistence, but he never doubted she was right.

In a wavering voice, now presumably affected by her own crying, Keeta then asked, "What about the Shade?"

"Dead," was Nefin's short, flat reply. "And I didn't have to kill Gerik, sweetie. But we killed so many others before they were released from her control. So many." His voice caught at the end, broken by more rough sobs. Silent tears streamed down Maehrí's cheeks. Nefin's despair was almost tangible, even through a one-way enchantment.

"And the others?" Keeta's next query.

"Most of us got injured. No one else died—" He unexpectedly cut off, and a scuffling sound indicated some type of movement.

"What is it?" Keeta wondered after a suspenseful silence. Varhog was nearly beside himself with anxiety to know what their children had endured.

"Will you be all right if I leave you here a minute? Var left the ship with a rope in his hand. He stopped only long enough to grab an axe."

"Yes!" Keeta exclaimed. "Go after him! Hurry!"

-:-:-:-

* * *

 **A/N (January 23, 2017):** Sorry it's not much. I had more written after this that I intended to include as part of this chapter, but before I could make it through my reread, the baby woke up. So I'm just posting this really quick to give y'all _some_ thing. I won't even go into all my blahblahblah reasons for not updating in two weeks.

Please review!


	131. Part III 32 Defiance

**32\. Defiance**

Nefin was vaguely grateful he had trained himself to be so aware of his surroundings because his horror at slaughtering fifty-six—he couldn't help keeping track—innocent dwarves and his grief that Will had died overpowered almost every coherent thought. But the vibration of Var's footfalls through the wooden dock reached him notwithstanding the crushing emotions, alerting Nefin to his friend's departure.

Nefin carefully set his wife back on the pier. Many dwarves floundered in the harbor where the Lethrblaka had tossed them, but most must have managed to remove their armor and were treading water as they moved back toward the dock.

"They're strong," he quietly remarked to Keeta, "but they might begin to tire soon. Maybe you can find a way to help them out."

She silently nodded, eyes wide and tearful. Nefin carefully brushed the trails from her pale freckled cheeks and . . . streaked her face with blood from his coated hands.

He frowned, and Keeta asked, "What now?"

"I got blood on your face. My hands are . . . stained."

She took one of his hands and kissed it. "I know how it feels, Nefin. We've had to fight for our lives."

"But the ones you killed wanted to fight. The dwarves . . ."

"I'm sorry," she consoled. "I still love you. Go after Var now. We can't lose him too."

He leaned forward and kissed her forehead before laboriously getting to his feet. He started after Var as quickly as he could, but the deep wound in his calf throbbed horribly. He had only expended enough energy to magically stop the bleeding on his and Ajh's cuts. He was relieved his human friend was such a good fighter and hadn't sustained more serious injuries since he hadn't been wearing any armor.

As Nefin limped past the gangplank, his expert tracker's eye took in many details all at once. Most notably, he was surprised to observe ancient Rhunön kneeling near Will's feet.

Her short-cropped hair, once silver, was now pure white. Her once deeply wrinkled skin now sagged from her cheeks and under her jaw in an even greater demonstration of age. She appeared to have one foot in the grave, so to speak, and Nefin doubted she had much time left.

 _I bet this was her last chance to escape the elves,_ he surmised with a feeble smile almost turning up his lips. _During that scrying session when I was unconscious, Keeta said they told her something about how Rhunön hated being confined to a bed all day._

The trace of humor had no opportunity to gain substance, for Nefin was also able to take in Will's condition in the brief second his eyes rested upon him. He shuddered and quickly looked away, but the disturbing image stayed in his mind. Will's skin already appeared to be in the beginning stages of putrefaction due to the poison of the Lethrblaka's blood.

 _Poor Lena_ , Nefin sadly thought. _We'll have to bury him soon._ He had a hard time processing that another of his best friends was gone. _How can a life end so suddenly and cruelly?_ _How many families and friends will feel the same as I do when they learn their loved ones died? Because I ended their lives. With my sword and arrows. That's how a life can end so suddenly._ He shuddered again and angrily clenched his hands into fists.

He squelched the concern he felt upon catching sight of Hanna slumped into Brom, her long silver hair spilling across part of Will's body. _She'll be fine, but I need to focus on Var._

He reached the stone street and picked up his pace just as a voice called, "Nefin?"

Nefin glanced over but didn't stop moving.

Gerik jogged after him, stumbling over his fallen comrades. "Nefin! I'm so sorry!"

Apology or not, Nefin was in no mood to converse with his dwarf friend. He knew perfectly well that Gerik hadn't acted of his own volition, yet he was more worried at the moment about what Var was clearly planning to attempt. Not to mention that Gerik had given him the gash in his leg, which prevented Nefin from moving as quickly as he needed to.

"Gerik, not now," he sharply interjected. "Did you happen to notice Var heading this way?" Though he scanned the street in every direction, Nefin was alarmed to realize that Var was no longer in sight. Had he started running after picking up the axe? How long would it take him to complete his design? Surely Nefin would find him in time.

"Uh," a crestfallen Gerik stammered, pointing between the two nearest warehouses. "I think he went that way."

Nefin had already guessed as much and walked that direction, trying to ignore the dead bodies he had to climb around. Bodies of dwarves he had slain. Keeta's friends. "And then where?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't see."

"I need to find him. Stay here and . . . just stay here!" Once again sharper than he intended, but Nefin didn't have time for this!

He turned around the corner of the warehouse and pushed his way through the confused dwarves still crowding the street. Dozens hadn't made it to the alley between the buildings, where Nefin had butchered so many.

 _Stop!_ he commanded himself as he hurried to the open door. _Don't dwell on it right now!_ Nefin swiftly checked inside with his eyes and mind for any sign of Var. Nothing.

He commenced a slow jog, wincing at the pain that shot through his leg. He had to get away from the dwarves so he could more easily discern Var's mental presence. He was too tired to use much magic right now, and sifting through dozens of minds would rapidly deplete his last energy, which he had a sinking feeling he might need to conserve for when he finally found Var.

After the next three buildings also turned up empty, Nefin began to panic that he'd gone the wrong way.

 _Var! Where are you?_ He resolved to check one more warehouse before backtracking. Nefin impatiently swiped the beads of sweat off his face, frustrated he had tired so quickly. _If only I hadn't run so fast and used so much magic earlier! And I forgot about the wards! They drained so much of my strength. I'll be useless if he gets violent! Where is he?_

His eyes and mind simultaneously identified Var through this door, though the sensory input from each source conflicted drastically. While his mind sensed peaceful, contented acceptance, Nefin's eyes beheld a heavy body dangling five feet above the ground from a perfectly tied noose— _Of course he can tie a noose perfectly! He's a sailor!_ —and a deep red, almost purple face.

His stomach twisted in fear and denial as he rushed into the room and frantically shouted, "Var! No!"

When he reached Var's feet, Nefin panicked again. _How did he get up there?_ He helplessly lifted around Var's calves to counter the strangulation, his eyes darting about the room in search of an explanation. They found it in a high stack of barrels in one corner.

Perhaps expecting that someone would come after him, Var had climbed up to the rafters and crawled along them to the center of the room. And there on the beam right above Var's makeshift ladder lay the axe he had taken, seemingly so far away when his friend only had moments to live.

 _Where are my weapons!_ Nefin urgently thought. _I left them on the dock! The fighting was over! Can I jump up there? About twelve feet up. That's too high in my condition. I'm so tired! If I miss, I'll land on this injured leg, which might make me black out. I can't climb up Var. Too much extra weight on his neck. But I don't have time to make it to the corner and get that axe or climb up after him! What do I do?_

Nefin desperately cast about for an idea and almost cried in relief when a dark shadow filled the doorway. Gerik had disobediently followed him, bless the dear boy! And he still had his axe!

"Gerik! Cut him down! Now!"

"I can't see well enough!" The dwarf started into the room, and Nefin cursed when he realized that Gerik couldn't see in the dim interior after just being in the bright morning sunshine.

As he began to speak the words that would light up the large space enough to increase Gerik's visibility, Var kicked out with his foot, smashing Nefin square in the mouth with his large boot, still damp from . . . what? Had Var fallen in the ocean? That must have been what Hanna meant when she said she saved him. Though he had never gone aboard the ship after the fight—instead heading directly to Keeta—Nefin had overheard every word of Will's last conversation.

"Ah!" He staggered back and landed on the ground. Both hands clapped to his face, catching a few teeth. " _You are not going to kill yourself!_ " Nefin hollered through the pain, blood spewing from his mouth. He shouted the spell to light the building and once again ordered Gerik, "Cut him down!"

He watched in admiration and satisfaction as the axe whirled through the air, slicing through the rope where it descended from the rafters just inches above Var's head. _Only a dwarf could throw with that precision. Thank you for following me!_

Var crashed to the dirt floor with a dull thump, his legs twisting beneath him.

 _Broken_ , Nefin guessed as he crawled to his friend's side and unraveled the knot cinched around his neck. Var reflexively sucked in a huge breath once the tether was loose, and the color of his skin gradually normalized. Nefin exhaled in profoundest gratitude, grinding his teeth to fight the tears and the ache of his injuries.

Var grasped his wrist with an iron grip. "Won't you and your sister take a hint?" he seethed in a grating rasp. "Why won't you just let me die!"

" _Because we love you!_ " Nefin bellowed, quivering with rage and exhaustion and shock. "You'll have to kill me to keep me from interfering with this madness! How could you even _think_ to do this right now! Right after Will died! You promised him you'd protect Lena! How can you be so selfish! Don't you know what it would do to us if you died too! We're already devastated! We couldn't bear to lose another friend!"

"You're devastated because you lost another friend," Var echoed in an emotionless tone. "I don't even feel sad. I can't feel anything anymore because I didn't lose one or two of my best friends. I lost my wife and twin brother. I'm broken. Empty. A shell. None of you understand what that's like, Nefin. You'd want to die too."

"I understand," an unexpected female voice gently differed. "It's Mother, Var, and I understand how you feel." Var slowly sat up, a puzzled look crossing the previously blank mask of his face.

Comprehension almost immediately replaced Nefin's matching feeling of confusion. Too tired now to grimace at the pain stabbing through his leg—or maybe because his whole jaw had swelled up—he shifted enough to pull the scrying mirror from his pocket. He recognized Willow's face in the glass as he handed it to Var.

-:-:-:-

* * *

 **A/N (February 1, 2017):** Yet again not as much as I hoped, but I'm struggling to get more written. Sickness has taken a toll on our family over the past month. The baby is teething, and I'm not sleeping great. Anyway, I at least wanted to reassure everyone that Var doesn't die. In the few paragraphs I have written of the next chapter I cried more than I did when Will actually died, so maybe that's another reason I'm hesitating. Those tearjerker chapters take a lot out of me.

Please review, kiddos!


	132. Part III 33 Compassion

**33\. Compassion**

Var numbly accepted the mirror from Nefin, but one look at his mother's beautiful, compassionate face swiftly dissolved the detached feeling.

"Mother," he gasped, pressing the mirror to his chest and just as quickly lifting it away so he could see her again. Unable to make an appearance earlier, angry, defeated, heartbroken tears now spilled out of his eyes and down his cheeks. "Mother, I miss you."

"Oh, sweetie," Willow sobbed, "I'm so sorry, though I know how meaningless it seems. I've been where you are, Var. You and Will were my reason for continuing."

"But he's gone," Var desolately said. "It hurts so much I couldn't even feel it at first. I have no reason to continue. I don't _want_ to continue."

"What about Lena?" Nefin demanded from beside him, still accusatory and shaking.

Var felt a sliver of remorse that Nefin's face was swollen and bruised because of his kick. He partly responded to Nefin's question while looking back at his mother: "I don't love Lena. I can't be her husband. I wasn't even a good enough husband to protect my own wife. And now it seems like I didn't love her as much as my brother—"

"No, Var," Willow interrupted. "That's not true. You were everything Zadí needed. You always saw how special she was. That reassurance of her worth gave her the courage to make her final choice. You kept her safe so she could. And you didn't love Will more than Zadí."

"That's how it feels," Var confessed, ashamed. "Losing him is so much harder."

"Yes, that's how it feels," his mother echoed, again interjecting before Var could spiral into deeper despair. "But that's how death always is. Each time we encounter it, the sting is so sharp and fresh that it seems to overpower any previous feelings. Losing my husband was the worst pain I ever experienced, far worse than when my father died. But because of the time that has passed since then, losing a son feels even more agonizing."

"I don't know how to go on, Mother. I don't know how to be me without him."

"Var, listen to me," Willow gently implored, but with a firmness in her voice that demanded Var's attention. "I know a thing or two about losing loved ones. When my mother died, I was too young to understand at first. I didn't know why she wouldn't wake up. It took a few days of seeing my father mourn before I began to comprehend what death meant. And then I felt sad in my five-year-old way. But when my brother William died—yes, I had a brother Will too—it hurt so much worse because I actually knew what it meant. He seemed so young and frail. I think I knew deep inside that he wouldn't grow to be an adult, but I always hoped he would. I still remember how painful it was to watch him breathe his last weak breath and to kiss his pale cold cheek before they closed his casket. But I still had my father then. And when _he_ died five years later, it was worse than anything before because I felt so alone. Sunset had just hatched for me and Murtagh was there with me, but my family was gone.

"Var, I know exactly what you're going through because I went through it then. I wanted to kill myself. It seemed like that would be easier and less painful than continuing on without my father. Sunset and Murtagh never left me alone, never gave me the opportunity, so I just went along to the Isle. I could never have anticipated what my future would hold. Even when I met Father and heard his voice, so much like my late father's, I still never would have expected my future to be as full and happy as it ended up being. Imagine what I would have missed if I had ended my life.

"We may not see it now, but you have something beautiful in store, Var. I know it. Please trust me. Trust my experience and put this idea from your mind. Help Lena through this and come home to me, sweetie. Please."

Var hung his head and let the mirror rest on his lap, full of regret after hearing his mother's gentle pleading. "I will, Mother. I'm sorry I couldn't think of you. I felt so numb and hollow. I couldn't feel anything. Like how you felt when Father died."

His mother nodded and looked away from the mirror when, from the background, Maehrí said, "The babies have awakened. We shouldn't leave them alone."

Var heard his father request, "May I have a moment? Then we'll end the spell."

Varhog's face appeared in the mirror, and Var was unprepared for how much older he looked. Grief and exhaustion deepened the wrinkles around his father's eyes and mouth.

"Father . . ." he faintly said, overcome by a wave of shame. This time, however, the emotion resulted from Var's view that he had failed as Zadí's husband, which role his father had perfectly exemplified for as long as Var could remember. Even before Var could remember, his father had always protected his mother, going so far as to give his life for her.

"Son," Varhog replied, pausing as his emotions momentarily overwhelmed him. He gruffly cleared his throat and brushed his eyes. "Son, I'm sorry about Will. Unlike Mother, I can't imagine what you must be going through, but I want to reassure you. Var, I have no doubt that you always treated Zadí as I taught you to. And though you don't feel for Lena what you did for Zadí, you're the only one there who can comprehend what she's feeling. She needs you, so be there for her. Be whatever she needs right now to make it through this."

"I will," Var promised again, grasping the shred of resolve to keep his word not only to his father, but also to Will. He had nearly forsaken the vow he had given in response to his brother's dying wish. Now, however, it would be his reason for continuing. The least he could do for Will was keep Lena safe and warm. Her nightmares would undoubtedly be worse now that he was gone.

"We need to tend to the babies," his father said. "But we'd like to witness Will's burial. Can one of your magical friends scry us?"

"I . . . I'm not sure . . ." Var faltered, glancing at Nefin.

In a tone now devoid of accusation, his friend answered, "Probably not. Hanna passed out while trying to save Will, and I'm close to the same. Brom lost a lot of blood. But we'll need to take care of Will's burial right when we get back to the ship. He was already decomposing."

"Why?" Varhog questioned. "How did he die?"

Now Nefin was uncertain. He passed the conversation back to Var with a shrug.

So Var briefly supplied the explanation to his father's query, shuddering at the reminder of his twin's passing.

"After we get the babies, I will scry again, Varhog," Maehrí gently offered. "And we will gather the others." Her face came into view, and she addressed her son. "How long will it take you to return to the ship, Nefin?"

"Good question. Besides being physically and emotionally exhausted, I have a serious wound in my calf. And Var's legs might also be injured. Can you walk?"

Var focused on his legs and registered an entirely different pain from the one that had broken his heart. He shifted in an attempt to pull his legs under him and stand, but they wouldn't support his weight. "Doesn't look like it."

"Then I'll help," another voice unexpectedly volunteered. "Let me do some good for a change."

Var looked over in surprise and recognized Gerik for the first time, crouching nearby. The dwarf continued, "I can run fetch several more dwarves and we'll carry you both back to the ship." Without another word, he hopped up and jogged out of the warehouse.

"I'll scry again in half an hour," Maehrí concluded. "If you arrive back and are ready before then, please wait." Her feeble smile was overshadowed by anguish as she whispered, "I'm glad to see you, Nefin. I love you." When new tears welled in her eyes, she abruptly ended the scrying spell.

The mirror reflected only his own face as Nefin quietly replied, "Goodbye, Mother." His hands trembled as he dropped them to his lap.

"Sorry," Var muttered. "Sorry I tried to hang myself. Thank you for stopping me."

Nefin slowly raised his head and warily regarded Var. "I know your father already said it, but for what it's worth, I thought you were a good husband too. I never knew you felt like you failed Zadí, but I guarantee you that she didn't. I only hope I can be half as good to my wife as you were to yours."

Var shook his head and lowered his watering eyes. "You might have heard that Will wanted to be buried at sea, but I hate the thought of his body being eaten. Will you help me? Once the long boat drifts out far enough, will you set it on fire with an arrow?"

"Of course," Nefin dully answered, staring at his hands again. "I can't believe he's gone. How will we bury the dwarves? A proper dwarven burial is to enclose the body in stone. I owe them that much after what I did—"

He cut off as a dozen dwarves entered the building. They carried two wooden doors and stopped next to the pair sitting on the floor.

"We brought these to use as stretchers," Gerik puffed. "We'll help you climb on. As long as you can hold onto the sides to stay steady, we can carry you back without any trouble." He set his end of the door by Var's feet while the other dwarves copied him until both makeshift litters rested on the ground.

Once Nefin and Var were in place, six dwarves surrounded each sturdy plank and lifted in unison. As predicted, they bore the load without any trouble and promptly proceeded to trot out of the warehouse into the bright morning sunshine, heading back to the ship and the dismal scene that awaited.

* * *

 **A/N (March 20, 2017):** Long time no see, huh? I won't apologize or enumerate the many reasons for the long pause. It's mostly the same old yada yada, so you don't need to hear it again. I've felt glimmers of desire to work on this here and there, but have devoted my time and energy to other demands. If you're glad for a new update, please review. Thank you to those who have expressed concern and left reviews over the last month and a half. You motivated me to keep going. ~Autumn


	133. Part III 34 Graves of Water and Stone

**34\. Graves of Water and Stone**

Brin slowly looked up, eyes unfocused and burning, when a small sound pierced the grief-induced haze gripping her mind. She glanced over her shoulder toward the voice as someone called her name again.

The minor movement seemed to require great effort. She felt like she was suffocating, or trapped in a tight space, or somehow otherwise constricted. Her heart hurt in a way she had never experienced when Zadí died. Or maybe it only felt this way now because this new torment of witnessing Will die had been piled onto the old, not-fully-healed pain of losing her sister-in-law.

Brin blinked to clear her tear-filled eyes and recognized Keeta standing behind her at the bottom of the gangplank. Now that Keeta had her attention, she didn't speak again but silently motioned with one hand for Brin to come over.

Brin understood Keeta's reluctance to disturb the scene. It seemed hallowed. Or cursed. Whatever the case, Brin scooted away from Brom until she could stand up without drawing attention to herself and walked over to her best friend.

She stared down at Keeta, waiting for an explanation.

"Your horn?" were Keeta's unexpected first words.

Brin wrinkled her forehead in confusion. Keeta wanted her to come down to ask about her horn? She raised both hands and ran them along her horns. Her left horn ended before her right, and Brin remembered the Lethrblaka snipping it off. The stupor of sadness, soreness, and tiredness numbed any negative reaction whatsoever. "It got bitten off," she shortly replied, shrugging apathetically. "Was that all?"

Keeta shook her head and gestured toward the sea. "I need help. Getting them out. I'm too short."

Brin stared in passive disinterest as the dwarves treading water searched for a way to return to the pier. Then, unbidden, memories of killing magically controlled dwarves clawed their way into her mind. She suppressed a shudder and forced the thoughts back behind the mental barrier she had unconsciously created to preserve her sanity.

Without responding to Keeta, Brin mechanically turned and stepped around the gangplank so she could reach onto the main deck and retrieve a long pole from the ship. This she extended to the nearest dwarf, who easily pulled himself up onto the wooden dock.

"Is there another?" Keeta asked. "Maybe these first ones out could help you with the others."

"They might be too tired," Brin countered, speaking as if the dwarf wasn't even present. He probably didn't even understand, since she and Keeta spoke in the ancient language. "Look at the condition they're in after what the Shade did."

No anger flared in Keeta's eyes. Like Brin, she was too tired and sorrowful to feel a full spectrum of emotions.

The second dwarf climbed out beside the first, and Brin automatically moved on to the next. "Where's Nefin?"

"He went after Var."

"Var?"

"When he left the ship. Didn't you notice?"

"No," Brin admitted. "Where did he go?"

Keeta shrugged, her eyes vacant as she gazed toward the dripping dwarves huddled together on the pier. They definitely didn't understand, but Brin didn't want to bother switching to the common tongue or Dwarvish. Neither, apparently, did Keeta, who flatly answered, "Don't know. He had a rope and picked up an axe. Like he wanted to kill himself."

A jolt of fear stabbed through the pained daze encompassing Brin's entire body. Keeta wasn't usually so blunt, but Brin knew she probably couldn't help it right then. "I should go help."

"No need. Nefin found him. Gerik came for help to carry them to the ship."

"Carry them?"

Keeta sighed. "I don't know why, Brin. How will we bury all the dwarves who died?"

Brin closed her eyes and fought the overwhelmed feeling that engulfed her. She released her grip on the pole when someone tugged it away from her. "I don't know, sweetie. They'll want to be buried . . ."

"In stone," Keeta finished, swallowing hard as tears filled her eyes. "But where? We're in a harbor . . . "

"Maybe the quarry," Brin suggested. "Remember last year?"

Keeta nodded, lifting a hand to wipe under her nose. "The quarry Reavstone was named for. The old section no longer in use. Maybe it will work. Might be the only place anywhere near."

Brin resisted the desire to sink to the dock, wrap her arms around her knees, and cry. She didn't want to make decisions. She didn't want to think about everything they needed to do. And the arrival of Gerik, Var, and Nefin spared her the responsibility, at least for the time.

"Var!" she exclaimed. "Thank goodness! What happened?"

Var shook his head and absently rubbed his neck, raw with angry-looking red welts. Nefin also appeared to have sustained new injuries on his face, but Var spoke before Brin could ask how. "Long story. Not now. Let's take care of Will."

Everyone turned to look toward the ship and those who remained onboard. Brin sensed that they felt the same exhaustion and overwhelm as she. She just wanted to go to sleep and wake up and realize that everything they had experienced this morning was all a bad dream.

"We need to get him in the long boat," Var said. "And my legs might be broken. Can anyone help me?"

"We will," Gerik offered. "It's the least we can do." He spoke in the common tongue, and Brin assumed it was so the other dwarves would understand.

Keeta didn't raise her eyes from their study of the dock. Also switching to the common tongue, she mumbled, "Whatever the Shade made you do, it wasn't your fault."

Gerik shuffled his feet, and Brin noticed that Nefin was watching him carefully. "Uh. . . . Keeta, I'm sorry. Sorry we . . . I . . . tried to kill you. She tortured us whenever we tried to throw off her compulsion."

Still gazing down, Keeta dipped her chin and gulped. Several tears splashed to the pier by her feet, but she didn't reply.

"We want to make amends however we can," Gerik firmly finished. Several of the dwarves surrounding him nodded their agreement, but no one else said anything.

"Where should we set you?" Gerik then asked Var to break the lengthening silence.

Before Var could respond, Nefin slid off his makeshift litter and limped to Keeta. He reached down and lifted her up. She circled her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck, where she buried her face. Muffled sobs shook her shoulders.

As Nefin pressed his face into Keeta's hair, Brin vaguely realized that he had removed his armor at some point. She glanced down at the beautiful steel-silk covering her torso and understood why. It was drenched in drying blood, and she suddenly wanted to be as far away from it as she could.

As she compulsively yanked the shirt off over her head and tossed it toward the gangway, Var finally answered, "Right here, I guess. I'll be able to see onto the ship and out over the harbor."

Still warm in her sleeveless undershirt, Brin followed the dwarves who reverently boarded the ship and approached Will. She wanted to help her cousins, both the living and deceased.

She stopped by Will's head, and the dwarves stayed behind the six people still encircling his body—Ajh, Lena, Swiftpaw, Rhunön, Hanna, and Brom. The dwarves expectantly regarded her, and Brin saw that she had unwittingly taken charge.

"Uh," she began, but her voice escaped as an awkward squawk. So she cleared her throat and tried again: "We need to attend to Will's burial. These dwarves are going to help me lift him into the long boat. Everyone else needs to move back."

Lena didn't budge, and Brin's heart ached for her friend. She couldn't imagine what Lena was feeling right then. Hanna likewise remained unmoving, as she was unconscious. But both Brom and Ajh looked up and seemed grateful for the instructions. They mutely obeyed by scooting themselves and the girls next to them away from Will's body. Swiftpaw also moved back, staying close to Lena's other side. Once Ajh gently lifted her off of Will's chest, Lena latched onto her brother and hid her face in his shoulder.

Both men grimaced in pain, and Brin worried about their injuries. Her eyes lingered on Brom's chest wound, still open but not bleeding. Ajh's arm. Nefin's leg and swollen, bruised face, as well as Var's legs and neck. Brin registered a mild curiosity as to what had happened there, but it quickly disappeared in light of the current situation.

Then there was her horn. Well, maybe her horn wasn't a high priority. She wasn't even sure it could be reattached. Would it grow back? Yet again, Brin's curiosity was fleeting. But someone would need to heal her friends as soon as possible, and Hanna, Nefin, and Brom were far too exhausted.

 _Focus on the matter at hand,_ she ordered herself. The ancient elf woman by Will's feet only shifted sideways slightly. Though older by appearance than ever before, Rhunön seemed alert and prepared to help in some unknown way.

The dwarves filed into position and awaited Brin's cue. She took a deep breath and squatted down by Will's head. She had been avoiding a closer examination of her cousin but couldn't any longer.

His countenance was extremely disturbing. Prominent veins of varying shades of green and black stood up under his skin, which seemed thin and stretched over bloated tissue. And the smell associated with his rapid decomposition, mixed with pools of Lethrblaka blood, was disgusting.

Brin suddenly worried whether transferring his body to the long boat would even be possible. What if his internal organs rushed out in a messy gush when they lifted him? Lena wouldn't be able to stand that.

During Brin's moment of hesitation, Rhunön's voice unexpectedly filled her mind. _On my signal, Brin._ With one hand resting on a fancy pouch tied to her belt, the elf touched Will's boot and whispered an unintelligible phrase.

Lifting her hand away, Rhunön glanced at Brin and nodded.

 _Here it goes_. Brin reached under Will's head and neck while the dwarves all around him established a grip. "Now," she muttered, and everyone lifted together. To her relief, Will's body was stiff, and nothing rushed out as they carried him to the long boat. His severed hand remained on his abdomen. _Maybe Rhunön performed a spell to keep him in one piece,_ she surmised. _I'm glad these dwarves are so strong. He's heavy._

They set him in the boat, and more dwarves joined the pallbearers to manage the extra weight while they walked toward the gangplank. _I can't believe this,_ Brin thought. _How can he be gone? And here I am preparing to send his body off into the ocean._

As they passed Nefin, Brin realized he held a mirror in his hand. In it she saw her aunt and uncle viewing the proceedings, and her tears made an abrupt reappearance. _How awful that they can't be here for this. Losing a child must be the worst possible sorrow._

Brom and the others on the ship—minus Hanna—followed the funeral procession down the pier. Ajh supported Lena while Rhunön walked alongside. Swiftpaw trailed behind, her young girl face covered in tears. All of the dwarves had exited the water, and several of these brought Var closer on his wooden stretcher.

"Now what?" Brin wondered in the same undertone when they arrived at the end of the dock.

"His body fills the boat," Gerik pointed out. "It won't shift around if we tilt it, and the boat should stay afloat if we let it slide in slowly."

"But how will it float away?"

"I will see to it," Rhunön ensured, patting her mysterious pouch.

"Should you be using magic?" Nefin quietly asked.

"Absolutely, young man," the old woman reassured. "And I will pay the last respects. Set him down here, lads." This last she spoke in perfect Dwarvish, which surprised Brin.

The dwarves did as she requested. Lena dropped down beside the long boat and gingerly held Will's left hand. Her tears never ceased, but she was otherwise calm. At least outwardly.

Brin wished she had a princess's composure when Rhunön started speaking. But as it was, she ended up blubbering even more.

True to her nature, Rhunön was short and direct. "Will was a friend to everyone. He brought joy wherever he went and never failed to make me smile, which is more than I can say of most. We will miss him and always remember his kindness. His legacy will live on through his wife and babies."

If Lena was taken aback by Rhunön's words, she didn't show it. But she did bow her head and lose control enough that her hands started shaking. "You always loved the ocean," she whispered. "Now you'll be a part of it. Goodbye, Will." She trailed her fingers over his closest horn and his hair—perhaps not trusting the stretched skin of his face to withstand even the gentlest touch—before clasping her hands in her lap.

Brin couldn't help with the final send off. She felt too weak. Drained. As the dwarves pushed the boat into the water, she sank down into the empty space left behind and tried to resist reaching out after it. _Bye, Will_ , she thought, already missing her favorite cousin and how, like Rhunön said, he always joked around and made her laugh.

Whatever magic Rhunön used to propel the long boat through the water, she performed silently. And just when that silence became unbearable, Nefin's amazing singing voice softly filled the air with an elven song of farewell.

Brin exhaled some of the tension away and focused on the words to ease the sting of parting. She was glad Nefin sang about the time of reuniting, rather than a traditional elven funeral song that would have spoken of death as the end of existence and entrance into some nameless void.

When he stopped, Brin turned to see why. Nefin set Keeta down and retrieved his bow and an arrow. Though the arrowhead was brightsteel, it lit at Nefin's magical command. He wiped his eyes with the back of his left arm before nocking his bow and aiming out over the harbor. Brin understood his actions right as he released the arrow and faced forward to watch it land perfectly in the now-distant long boat.

Either Will's body was highly flammable in its noxious state, or some other magic caused the floating bier to erupt into flames. When Lena gasped and lurched forward, Brin caught her arm to keep her from tumbling off the dock. "It's better this way, Lena," Brin gently comforted. "Now he won't be eaten by birds or fish."

Lena panted in a few short breaths before relaxing. Then she sat still and continued to gaze toward the smoke billowing over her husband's remains.

After an immeasurable span of time plodded by, the only evidence of Will's passing was a dusky haze in the afternoon sky. Brin sensed restless movement around her and heard quiet muttering in Dwarvish.

Gerik still stood next to her, not much taller though she knelt on the dock. "Now we must attend to our dead," he said, more to her than anyone, and that mainly because at some point she must have shown greater attentiveness than her friends.

"How can we help?" Brin dully questioned, hoping she wouldn't actually have to do anything.

"We will do it," Gerik informed.

"There's a quarry not far out of town. Maybe you can find some carts or wagons . . ."

Gerik nodded, his eyes hard and distant. "We've been stationed in this city for a couple weeks. The Shade forced us to come, and we've pillaged and terrorized the residents all that time. I only hope they might forgive us if we repair the damage we caused. The quarry is the only appropriate place in the vicinity for a dwarven burial. But we don't need or expect your help. Not after all you've been through."

Brin sighed in relief. Then she quickly glanced up when an unanticipated voice issued forth from Nefin's enchanted mirror. Uncle Eragon—her father-in-law—said, "Gerik, as a Dragon Rider, you should sail home with the others to be on the Isle when we reinstate the pact. Arûna will most likely fly here with the other dragons."

Gerik's mouth twitched, and he stonily answered, "If that is your counsel, I will honor it, though I had hoped to make restitution for my misdeeds."

"Your companions will do that in your stead as they return to Tronjheim," Eragon advised. "You belong with the Riders. When will you others leave Reavstone?"

Brin and some of the others looked at Brom, as was their habit when planning. Brom shook his head and passed a hand over his puffy eyes as he declined, "I can't . . . decide anything right now. It's too much."

Eragon's face was only sympathetic as he examined each youth in turn. "Is everyone else well . . . well enough?"

Brom wearily lowered his chin. "Yes, Father."

Eragon compassionately started to say, "You all have endured great hardship—"

But Rhunön gruffly interrupted, "I will help them. Never fear, Shadeslayer. Old Rhunön will tend to your children and see them on their way by morning. They will notify you at that time. But for now they need healing and rest."

Eragon gratefully accepted. Though the desire to know all that had befallen them was evident in his face, he must have thought it the wrong time to ask for a report from the youth. Brin agreed. She wouldn't have relived that morning's events right now for all the riches in the world.

Her father-in-law also seemed to rethink his attempt to offer consolation. Instead, he simply said, "Then we will leave you to it. Perhaps we will hear an update in the morning." Brin imagined that all of the parents would anxiously await tomorrow morning.

Nefin dropped his hand when the scrying spell ended.

Rhunön immediately approached him and knelt by his wounded leg. "That was a fine shot, young man." She rested one hand on her purse and the other on his injury.

"Thank you, honored one. But I'm concerned about you using magic."

"Nonsense. This pouch is full of the precious stones I use in the Riders' blades. For months the elves sent the younger generation to replenish them with energy to fuel spells they cast to sustain my life. How else do you think I stayed alive this long? I'm thousands of years old, Nefin, but they wouldn't let me die. I escaped their doting care at the earliest opportunity—now, as it so happened—and came to see if there was any good left for me to do before moving on. And there is. So no more fretting. I will heal you all and see that you are ready to sail on, then join my Fûthark."

As if her explanation about joining her Fûthark didn't confuse him like it did Brin, Nefin made no further objection while Rhunön healed his leg and busted face. "As handsome as your father," she fondly murmured before resuming her crisp, business-like manner. "Now you and Keeta will assist the dwarves. Keeta feels loyalty to her kin and race, and you will never rest easy if you don't. But you must not let guilt devour you. Your actions were motivated by self-defense and in defense of your loved ones. Indeed, the fate of this land depended on your success defeating the Shade. Though innocents lost their lives in the process, such is the way of war. The dwarves played their part as well. Congratulations, by the way. I see you were able to use my ring."

"Yes. Thank you, Rhunön-elda." Nefin stooped to pick up Keeta.

Before he or any of the dwarves could begin to leave, Rhunön addressed Gerik: "I wish to be buried in stone with your kin. Will you ensure this outcome?"

Confusion and concern rippled across his countenance, but Gerik dipped his chin in confirmation, so Rhunön continued. "Good. Thank you. And I have another request." Gerik waited silently. "Will you take my place as forger of the Dragon Rider blades?"

Now Gerik reacted. "I'm not worthy, wise one!" he emphatically denied.

"You are wrong," Rhunön disagreed. "You have personally experienced the process, but even before then you already possessed considerable skill as a blacksmith."

"I am honored," Gerik humbly said. "I will do my best, though I would never presume to achieve your reputation."

"Give yourself a thousand years," Rhunön dryly suggested. "Wait a moment longer, then I will be ready to join you."

The ancient elf moved over to Ajh and repaired the wound in his arm. "Use this to revive Hanna," she instructed, placing a small jar from her pouch in his hand. "And have her drink some faelnirv. Then you two are to obtain the supplies you originally stopped for. Now that the Shade and her dark friends have departed, you will find the townspeople more hospitable. In fact, they will most likely highly praise you for your service in disposing of said monsters."

Ajh looked as surprised as Brin felt by Rhunön's uncanny knowledge of their situation but he said nothing as she briskly went on: "Are you not the chef in this group?"

"Yes, ma'am," Ajh quietly drawled, and a faint trace of humor tugged at Rhunön's mouth. Maybe she was remembering happier times when Ajh had explained the reason for his occasional charming accent.

"Then be sure to prepare a hearty meal for your friends this evening. Gerik, is there anywhere they can eat and rest away from this ship?"

"Yes, there is," Gerik shared. "Many inns back up to this street, but the nearest one to the north is called the Seaside Inn. We didn't vandalize as much right on the waterfront. The Shade didn't want our presence to be obvious." He flushed and awkwardly finished, "I only said that to explain that the Seaside would be in decent condition."

"Very good," Rhunön approved. "I have assignments for each member of this party, but once you have completed them, gather at the Seaside Inn to wash up, eat, and rest."

"Should I make enough for you and your companions?" Ajh asked Gerik.

"No. We will go without food tonight as part of our mourning."

Ajh quietly acknowledged Gerik and thanked Rhunön for healing him before departing to fulfill her instructions.

Rhunön next approached Var, still seated on the wooden door serving as his litter, and knelt beside him to heal his legs. When she was done, she lifted her hands to his neck and clucked reprovingly. "Please do not entertain that notion again, young Varhog. Cherish your life." One hand slid down to his heart and she continued, "I wish I could do something about _this_ pain. I am sorry for your loss. Both of them. You know what you must do."

Var creased his brow uncertainly, so, while moving her fingers to the blue band on his left hand and tilting her head toward Lena, Rhunön gently clarified, "He entrusted you with his most precious possessions. Do not let him down. She—they all—need you."

Var wordlessly stared at his benefactor, and she seemed impressed to add, "They do not hate you, young man. Those divine beings you wish to blame for your misfortune. They have a beautiful plan in store for you. Grace will shine in your life if you can but weather these storms."

Rhunön concluded her ministrations by crawling over to Brom, who sat behind Brin. Brin shifted around until she faced her husband and the ancient elven woman. Now that she was closer, Brin noticed how truly wizened Rhunön appeared. Each act of magic had taken a measurable toll.

Rhunön sternly glared at her and growled, "Take care of that steel-silk, you hear? It saved your life more than once."

Brin meekly hunched her shoulders. "I will, honored one."

Rhunön mended Brom's chest wound, concentrating carefully as her vitality decreased. Once finished, she rasped, "Take your friends home and finish what you set out to do. Restore the Riders and continue blessing the land of Alagaёsia. You should be ready to sail with the morning tide. In the meantime, you and your wife must clean the street. The dwarves will tend to their own, but you shall dispose of the other carcasses however you deem fit. I replenished the diamonds in your belt and the gems in the Riders' weapons with energy from the stones in my pouch. Now that you are whole, use your skills to repair the ship and clean up the Shade's destruction."

Brom regarded Rhunön in concern and merely nodded his understanding. Satisfied she had seen to every detail, Rhunön turned to Gerik and handed him her velvet pouch. "Here you are, young dwarf smith. To get you started. But I have every confidence that you will collect more as required to match every dragon hue you might possibly encounter."

Gerik reverently accepted the fine drawstring purse.

"Nefin," the old woman breathed, and he trained his eyes on hers. "The dwarves may require assistance to accomplish their task by nightfall. Use the power remaining in those stones to help them if necessary."

"I will," he promised.

With what seemed to be her last energy, Rhunön crawled back to Var. "Go to her," she urged.

Var vacated the wooden door and approached Lena, sitting alone at the end of the pier and still gazing out over the harbor. But he kept his eyes on Rhunön, who took his place on the plank and laboriously lay down on her back. Brin was also aware that Ajh had rejoined the group with Hanna. They stopped by Nefin and Keeta where they could clearly see the ancient woman. A tickling feeling in Brin's gut warned her that this would be the last opportunity for anyone to see the famed elven blacksmith alive.

With a look of serene satisfaction, she folded her wrinkled hands atop her abdomen and let her eyes droop shut. "Finally," she whispered. "I'm ready, Fûthark."

Then her breath left her lungs in a long, exhausted exhale. And Rhunön the elf smith peacefully passed from the world of the living.

Though she had felt a premonition only seconds before, a stunned expression froze on Brin's face. Just like that, Rhunön was gone. As if she had chosen to die precisely when she wanted. How different this was from Will's death. But it was death all the same, and Brin couldn't dwell on it if she wanted to stay sane.

"Let's go," she pleaded with Brom. "I can't stand this anymore."

He silently took her hand and arose. As they wove through the crowd of dwarves on the dock, half a dozen surrounded Rhunön and lifted her litter.

"You don't want to see her burial?" Brom inquired as they pushed free from the throng and gained the stone street.

"No," Brin instantly refused. "I can't see all of those dwarves I killed. I can't deal with this anymore. I'm about to snap."

Brom kept a firm hold of her hand and increased his pace, skirting the massacre on the street by hugging the low stone wall parallel the water. "Let's walk for a while."

He didn't stop until they arrived at the white sand beach. Even the mangy animals had deserted the scene during the fight. He sat down on the warm sand in front of a boulder and invited Brin down next to him. Then he put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into his side. With most of her left horn missing, Brin could snuggle far easier, and she decided right then that she didn't want to reattach it.

"Just close your eyes," Brom directed. "Sleep, if you want. I'll take care of our assignment myself. Later."

Brin did as he recommended for as long as she could, trying to appreciate the warm sand under her and the warm sun shining above. Small waves washed ashore a few paces from their feet. How could the world feel so cold when everything seemed warm and soothing?

What might have been hours later for all she could tell, Brin finally said the most pressing thing on her mind. In all that time, Brom had never stopped stroking her hair or her arms, and she was totally relaxed. "I'm grateful to have you, Brom. I don't know how we survived everything—Ilirea, Tenga, today—but I'm so relieved you didn't die. You might have died."

"Mm," he agreed, content to let her continue or stop. His head rested on the stone behind them, and his eyes were shut.

Brin decided to continue by asking him something that had been bothering her. "Why did you show them mercy? The Lethrblaka and Ra'zac."

Without opening his eyes, he answered, "My father once told me of an experience he had during the war. After he and my uncle Roran rescued Aunt Katrina from Helgrind, he stayed behind. My mother—not then, of course—ran to find him, and as they traveled back to the Varden, a group of Galbatorix's magically bound soldiers stopped them. When it became clear that the soldiers meant to apprehend them, my parents killed every member of the patrol with their bare hands. One of the young men was terrified, and he tried to escape. As my father chased after him, he begged for mercy. He promised not to betray them, but my father knew his oath to Galbatorix would force him to. Ending that young man's life is one of my father's greatest regrets. His last words to my father were, 'You're a monster!' He told me that if he could do it over, no matter how tired he was, he would have tried to spare that young soldier's life."

Brom finally cracked his eyes and finished, "They were here under coercion too. And the threat had passed. They acted with honor, and I wanted to as well. I don't know that it necessarily redeems my father for what he did, but at the very least I didn't want to harbor the same regrets. Not on top of everything else."

Brin gazed into his eyes, somehow greener in the bright sun. Or maybe only because they were so red-rimmed. "You're a good man," she murmured and kissed the corner of his mouth.

He resumed his rhythmic stroking and said nothing. His eyelids slid shut as small beads of liquid welled up in the corners.

While he was understandably not in the mood to openly converse, he had answered her first question, so Brin posed a second. "Did you know Lena was pregnant?"

"Mm," Brom repeated, this time as affirmation. "Though it wasn't twins until today. I didn't notice that until Rhunön said 'babies.' But don't ask me why because I don't know."

"Then they must be identical like Will and Var."

Brom made no comment, and Brin sadly remarked, "Poor Lena. They only had a couple months together. Less than any of us and they were in love the longest."

After another moment of silence, Brin continued her one-sided conversation: "I wonder what Rhunön meant when she said to Var that grace would shine in his life."

"Don't know," Brom shrugged. "Sorry, Brin. I can't think of anything to say. My mind feels numb. Maybe we should take care of our assignment before it gets dark."

"Yes. All right. Let's go."

Brom escorted her back to the ship at a casual stroll, her arm linked through his, and they picked up her stray arrows along the way. As they came up to the ship, he instructed her to wait. "You're not going back onboard until you have to." Brin sat on the stone wall dividing the harbor from the street and watched the sunset. Var and Lena were still at the end of the dock.

Her husband returned with a small bundle. "I'm taking you to that inn where you can bathe, eat, and sleep. I'll be in after I've taken care of this." He shifted her clothes and bath items to one arm, put his other around her shoulders, and purposely walked between her and their assignment.

By "this," Brin knew he meant the dead Lethrblaka and Ra'zac, and she was grateful he was kind enough to fulfill Rhunön's assignment by himself. She was also relieved that the dwarves had finished tending to their own, or at least removing the evidence of that morning's butchery.

"Do you think someone should help Var with Lena?"

"Var will be fine. She's his responsibility now. At least, Rhunön seemed to think so. And Will."

"What about the Caretakers and Bid'Daum? Are they still on the ship?"

An edge crept into Brom's voice. "They are content to stay there tonight. You know, can't be bothered."

Brin understood his resentment but had no desire to dwell on it.

When they reached the Seaside Inn, he opened the door and handed her the things in his arm.

"Thank you, Brom. I love you."

He smiled faintly, kissed her cheek, and softly replied, "See you soon," before turning to retrace his steps. The door swung shut behind her as Brin entered their accommodations for the night.

-:-:-:-

* * *

 **A/N (March 31, 2017):** Well, the itch to write returned full force. Only bad thing about that is that I'm back to wishing I had more time. But I did manage to get this nice long one written for you. Within the next couple of chapters I will be making an announcement (pertaining to this story. No, I'm not pregnant again. ;) So hang tight with me.

I referenced an event from the original IC series near the end of this chapter when Brom recounts his father's experience killing the young patrol soldier. I recently read a one-shot about that on this site and would highly recommend you go check it out. It was fantastic! Entitled _Last Wish_ by Galbasnalgli. It basically retells the chapter "Mercy, Dragon Rider" in _Brisingr_ from the perspective of the young man Eragon kills at the end after giving him a name and backstory. Very poignant.

Please review!


	134. Part III 35 Anger and Apology

**35\. Anger and Apology**

Brom heard when the inn's door swung shut and felt when Brin's eyes were no longer watching his back. And then he walked faster.

Then faster.

Then he jogged.

Then he sprinted.

Such a short distance to cover at such a pace and when he rounded the corner and burst between the warehouses onto the stone street, he harnessed all of the magical strength Rhunön had replenished and which he had forced to stay calm all the time he was sitting still with Brin and channeled it into moving the repulsive, huge bulk of the Lethrblaka's carcass.

But Brom didn't want to do the whole job with magic. He wanted to use his body, his muscles, release some of this pent-up anger and aggression before he snapped.

He therefore timed both efforts perfectly so that when he slammed into the beast's dead body with his arms out, it started sliding across the street toward the stone wall. He knew it would take less magical power to move the wall out of the way and push the corpse straight into the water than to lift it over the barrier, so he shoved away the divide and pushed, pushed, pushed—with his mind and might—toward the watery grave.

 _Another watery grave_ , he thought with gritted teeth. _You killed one of my best friends, monster!_

Brom knew he wasn't actually as mad at the Lethrblaka, who had unwillingly fought under coercion, as he was at Bid'Daum. That arrogant, apathetic, ancient old dragon. The Eldunarí could have helped. He could have saved Will. While Lena and Hanna had begged and pleaded, Brom had sensed the dragon's awareness. Oh yes, Bid'Daum had been fully conscious of their situation and had indifferently ignored them. He even spitefully considered how Will's death would utterly devastate Lena and had felt a smug sense of satisfaction.

 _Can't be bothered,_ Brom scathingly thought. _If it won't help you, don't help anyone else. Now I hate you as much as Lena does and I'll do everything in my power to help her destroy you just as soon as we don't need you. Horrible beast. And maybe Hanna will agree too. She was least likely to before._

More than anything, Brom felt like _he_ had failed Will. Brom was supposed to be the leader. He felt responsible for his friends' safety. Now not only had his little sister died, but one of his best friends. Lena was a widow at nineteen. Her babies would never know their father.

Brom dropped to his knees at the edge of the street as the dead Lethrblaka plunged into the harbor. The huge splash drenched him and hid the fact that tears once again covered his cheeks. The boat rocked wildly, and Brom bitterly thought, _Hope they roll off their beds._

The Caretakers really weren't to blame for Will's death either, and Brom realized he was angry at everyone. He tightly gripped his knees, elbows locked, and wept. _Sorry, Will, Lena. I couldn't keep you safe from danger or sorrow._

Brom knew better than to let the Lethrblaka's corpse decompose right in the harbor, so he continued his magical pushing until the body was far out at sea. Then he wearily got to his feet. _One down, one to go._

He dragged himself to the ship, not exactly tired—thanks to Rhunön—but tired of being in charge and being sad. Would he and his friends ever be happy again? It certainly didn't feel like it.

He noticed Var and Lena still at the end of the dock—dark shadows against the backdrop of a brilliant sunset—and hoped his reassurance to Brin would be true. Would Var be able to take responsibility for Lena while he was still grieving for Zadí? Most likely, in time.

Brom handled the dead Ra'zac with more gentleness and gratitude, this time using only his own strength. Though all of his instincts warned him to fear and hate this creature and though its reek was hideous after baking all day in the summer sun, it had ultimately allowed Brom to triumph over the Shade.

He deadened his sense of smell and retrieved both black cloaks from where he had thrown them during the fight. After all, he was supposed to be cleaning up. Then he spread them out on top of each other and transferred the carcass onto the dark glossy surface. Brom wrapped up the male Ra'zac and lifted the heavy load in his arms.

He walked to the rail, unceremoniously dropped the bundle into the water, and repeated the spell to send it out to sea.

Brom didn't give much thought beyond the required focus to his clean up and repair efforts. The ship was relatively untouched thanks to the defensive measures he had taken that morning.

That morning? That morning seemed like it had happened years ago. Brom felt so much older and more burdened.

He magically removed the dark stain where Will had fallen and bled to death, distancing himself somewhat from the task to avoid reliving the grief of that memory. The fight with the Shade and her henchmen had lasted perhaps all of fifteen minutes. How could fifteen measly minutes have the potential to change so much—personally and collectively?

He quickly finished cleaning the ship. Before disembarking, he went below deck to get himself a change of clothing and some toiletries. As the least of his worries, he'd barely given a second glance to his shredded shirt flapping about as he worked. But when he was done with Rhunön's assignment, he wanted to rid himself of the reminder of that morning. Thank goodness Rhunön had taken charge and meted out duties. Brom had been in no condition to organize or delegate.

As he approached the gangplank, Brom saw Swiftpaw perched atop the barrel by the railing, her yellow cat eyes visible in the waning daylight. He curiously regarded her.

She mentally enlightened, _I am waiting for Var and Lena. If she does not respond to him, perhaps I might be of assistance. I have already gathered the things Lena will need to wash up and change clothing so Var doesn't need to worry._

Brom paused to hear this message and reply, _How thoughtful. Thank you. Tonight I need to speak with everyone as a group. You should be there too. It concerns Lena and her safety. Var needs to know as well._

The cat blinked and guessed, _Would it have anything to do with an agreement she and Bid'Daum made to destroy him in exchange for his assistance?_

 _Yes,_ Brom confirmed in surprise. _I was under the impression you didn't know._

 _I overheard this morning. Before Will went down for breakfast, he told Var. I was in the long boat scouting with my mind for the Shade and Ra'zac. It seems he had some sort of premonition about his death and wanted to prepare his brother for the possibility of protecting his wife._

 _I see,_ Brom said, swallowing the lump in his throat, though he wasn't even speaking aloud. _Well, I suppose I won't . . ._

 _No need to wait up for us if the others happen to be there,_ Swiftpaw finished, as if reading his thoughts.

"Thank you," Brom repeated aloud and continued on his way.

Brom wasn't done tidying up after the battle, but he was beginning to feel the fatigue of that long dreadful day. Using magic, he swiftly cleared the street of the many dry blood patches—from dwarf and Lethrblaka alike—and restored the stone wall where he had removed it. _I'll finish anything I might have missed in the morning,_ he decided and trudged off toward the inn.

-:-:-

By the sun's descent, Var knew hours passed while he stood behind Lena. In all that time, she only moved to reposition herself from kneeling to sitting cross-legged. After that she stayed still as a statue.

Var eventually started to tire from simply standing there, so he lowered himself to sit behind her. The day's events had so drained him—physically, emotionally, mentally—that he couldn't think of anything to say and therefore remained silent.

When the sun reached the horizon and began painting the sky with its daily masterpiece, Var realized he probably ought to suggest leaving the pier and doing anything besides stare at the empty ocean. Lena might not move on her own. Maybe she was too weak. Perhaps she would fall asleep just sitting here.

As he had skipped breakfast that morning, Var was ravenous, but he knew Lena might not have an appetite. He remembered how he felt the night Zadí died.

His throat was dry, so he cleared it and quietly requested, "Lena, will you come inside with me?" He cleared his throat again. Apparently he was thirsty too.

She startled and whipped her head around to look at him. Her sudden movement after such stillness made Var jump in turn. His heart momentarily raced then slowed again. The devastation in her countenance explained everything. He had known this would be a problem. Since he looked and sounded just like Will, his presence would be a constant reminder to Lena of what she had lost.

"I'm so sorry," he rasped. "I wish it had been me."

"Me too," Lena unapologetically agreed, and Var couldn't fault her.

Blinking back tears, she continued, "What I fear the most is falling asleep and forgetting. If you're there when I wake up, I'll think you're him. I don't want to relive losing him every morning."

"I won't stay with you if you don't want me to."

"But I don't want to be alone."

"Just tell me what you need me to do. I know how hard this is, and I don't want to make it worse. I would never try to take his place. Neither of us wants that."

Lena tearfully nodded. "I don't know what I need anymore because I need Will and can't have him. Why does life have to be so unfair?"

Var wondered the same thing and had no good response, so he shrugged lamely.

"You know exactly what I mean, don't you?" Lena realized, raising her eyebrows as it dawned on her.

Var lowered his chin and felt so tired. He definitely knew exactly what she meant and could only commiserate with her. Nothing he could say or do would make her feel better right now. "Can we please go inside?" he repeated.

"If you carry me. My legs are asleep."

Var's legs also ached, so he took his time shifting to a squat. Lena helpfully reached out, and he lifted her up as he slowly stood. "Are you hungry?"

"Yes," she confessed. "But I don't know if I can eat."

"I understand." Var started unsteadily down the dock, pausing a moment as a dizzy spell washed over him. _I thought I stood up slowly enough. It must be how hungry I am._ "Does anything sound good?"

"Maybe it will after I bathe. That smell is nauseating."

Smell? Did Var stink? A memory of dancing with Zadí in the Tialdarí Gardens surfaced in his mind. _Um, Var. . . . You stink._ An almost amused grimace quirked one side of his mouth.

 _I miss you, Izz. I suppose it's possible I smell bad. I fought a Lethrblaka, almost drowned in the ocean, almost killed myself in a dusty warehouse. . . . Surely_ Lena _doesn't smell bad._ But no, she _did_ smell bad.

Then it occurred to Var that the odor she referred to must have come from Will's dead body and transferred to her while she mourned his passing. Yes, the stench was overpowering.

"And you're pregnant," Var remembered aloud. Then he felt like an idiot for stating the obvious. But since he was curious and it was something to say, he nonetheless added, "Did you know about the twins?"

Lena shook her head as her eyes started watering again. "I think they're sons. I've always imagined becoming a mother with Will by my side. How can I do this without him?"

"I won't leave you alone, Lena, even though I know it won't be the same. I'll help you take care of them. That's what he wanted."

Her weeping intensified. She clung to his shoulders and pressed her face into his chest. Var couldn't help that his eyes also started burning again but was surprised by the slightly good feeling of being someone Lena could hug. Someone warm and breathing. The night after Zadí had died was the worst of his life. He sat by her cold still body, wishing she would be warm and move again.

Var jumped as he passed the gangplank and a stealthy shadow moved in his peripheral vision. His pounding heart rate normalized as he recognized Swiftpaw, who must have barely transformed from werecat to young girl and donned her dress.

"We're heading to the inn," he informed Lena's small friend.

"I will accompany you," she replied, slinging a bundle over her shoulder. "Here are the things Lena might need to bathe and change. I didn't know where yours were but also brought some of Will's clothing in case you want to change. Or I can go get yours, if you'd rather not wear his. I just knew they would fit—"

"No, that's perfect, Swiftpaw," Var interjected. "Thank you for thinking of Lena. Sharing clothes with Will won't be anything new for me."

She nodded and followed him toward the street.

-:-:-

Brom leaned back in his chair at the dining table he shared with Nefin and Brin. As Gerik had predicted, the Seaside Inn was in more than decent condition. It was actually a fine establishment. Though they used the premises without permission, Keeta and Hanna had busied themselves with cleaning and organizing as a means of leaving the inn better than they had found it. Ajh was currently in the kitchen, apparently attending to dessert.

Brom had immediately bathed and changed when he first arrived then joined the others for Ajh's dinner, which was as hearty and delicious as Rhunön had instructed. He was amazed how much better being clean and fed could make someone feel.

Since he wasn't sure how long they would be alone and he wanted to discuss this tonight while they were off the ship, Brom brought up the discussion he had mentioned to Swiftpaw the next time Ajh entered the front dining area from the kitchen.

"Hanna, Keeta," he said to get their attention. "Would you come sit with us for a moment? I need to tell everyone about something before we get back on the ship."

Both girls stopped dusting or sweeping and readily complied. Keeta leaned the broom against the side of a neighboring table and perched on Nefin's lap while Hanna clenched the feather duster in both hands as she sat by Ajh. She kept her eyes on the table, and Brom knew she was extremely upset about Will's death. Yet another reason he had chosen this as the opportune time for this conversation.

"I'll just get right to it," Brom started. "Though we've been through a lot, we haven't finished what we set out to do. We still have to reinstate the Dragon Rider pact when we get back to the Isle." He watched Hanna closely as he spoke his next words. "We will need Bid'Daum's help for that."

As expected, Hanna stiffened when he named the Eldunarí. Nefin also noticed his younger sister's reaction. Neither elf said anything, however, so Brom continued.

"While Tenga held her prisoner, Lena made an agreement with Bid'Daum. If he would help her in a number of ways, she would ensure his destruction. He made her swear in the ancient language that she wouldn't reveal their bargain to anyone because he doubts that the elves, in particular, will agree to that plan. So she did. She needed his assistance keeping the Caretakers alive. When he helped us reach Vroengard, that was also in fulfillment of their contract."

Brom sighed. He closed and reopened his eyes as he went on, "Will guessed everything Lena couldn't explicitly tell him and shared with me and Brin. He also told Var this morning before we got here. Swiftpaw overheard. I know Nefin suspects that we've been keeping something from the rest of you. I felt like it was time for everyone to know. If we don't destroy Bid'Daum's Eldunarí, he threatened to kill Lena. Once we're all Riders again, we might be able to prevent that, but the dragon is unbelievably powerful. So we might not. I don't know about the rest of you, but I'd do anything to protect her."

Brom was relieved that Hanna was the first to coldly say, "If you're worried about me not being supportive, rest assured. I won't lose another of my friends because of some worthless Eldunarí. I'll do whatever I can to help destroy Bid'Daum, even if that means opposing any of the other elves on the Isle."

"What she said," Ajh seconded. "I won't let some arrogant old dragon hurt my sister."

Nefin and Keeta both nodded, so Brom asked for a quick update about their various assignments from Rhunön. Ajh reported that they had been able to procure supplies for the remainder of their journey. Townspeople had come out of the woodwork, so to speak, all afternoon and evening as word spread that the Shade was dead and the dwarven army was no longer hostile.

Nefin shared that with his help the dwarves had managed to bury all their dead and Rhunön according to dwarven custom. Gerik and his remaining companions had stayed outside of town near the quarry for the night and had asked Nefin and Keeta to help circulate the news that the dwarves wanted to make restitution beginning the following morning.

Keeta, who had been quiet up to this point in the conversation, joined by asking, "Should we really leave first thing in the morning? There's so much we could do here to help."

Hanna unexpectedly answered, "The best thing we can do for everyone on the mainland is finish the job Brom mentioned. If we can reestablish the Riders and your dragons come back, all of the Dragon Riders can return to Alagaёsia and restore peace. More places than Reavstone suffered at the Shade's hand."

"Yes," Brom concurred. "Against all odds, we defeated Tenga and the Shade. We found Lena. That's our last remaining priority."

He looked at Hanna in surprise when she abruptly stood and fled toward the kitchen. Then he sensed Var, Lena, and Swiftpaw outside and heard their footfalls moments before the door opened.

-:-:-

Var was relieved that no evidence of fighting or death remained on the street from that morning. Lena didn't need to see blood and dead bodies. Her weeping had subsided, but she kept her face against his shoulder. _Maybe she's trying to avoid the smell,_ he absently thought.

He wasn't sure where the Seaside Inn was, and Swiftpaw must have sensed his uncertainty. As they walked down the alley between the nearest warehouses, she moved in front of him and led him directly to their destination. He pushed through the doors, thinking again of Zadí and the time spent at Frederick's inn.

Mouth-watering smells filled the open dining room where his friends sat. The second thing Var noticed was a flash of silver through an archway near the back.

 _Hanna_ , he surmised as he noticed she was missing. _She left right before I arrived. I need to do something about that._

Their friends' greeting consisted of five wary stares. No one seemed sure how to act or what to say around him and Lena.

Var didn't bother with a salutation or reassurance. Yes, he and Lena would survive, but saying they were fine right now would be an outright lie. However, he did try to sound gentle when he said, "Lena wants to wash up before she thinks about eating. Can anyone show me where to take her?"

"I will," Keeta volunteered, hopping up and moving toward a staircase located near the back, opposite the doorway through which Hanna had disappeared.

"Are you hungry?" Ajh asked Var as he likewise stood.

"Famished. I'll come back after I change."

He followed Keeta up the stairs and into a clean room. Beyond the bed chamber was a small wash room with a basin full of steaming water. Swiftpaw stopped beside him.

"How should we do this?" Var wondered. For the first time he realized that Lena might want help and Swiftpaw might not be able to help her.

"My legs are fine now," Lena answered. "No more tingling. I should be able to manage. Do you want a turn?"

"I can show you the room Ajh is using," Keeta offered. "And Hanna wanted me to ask if you need her magical assistance, Lena."

"Can she heal a broken heart?" Lena questioned without any guile. "Because other than that, I'm physically well."

"Uh no," Keeta mumbled, squirming awkwardly. Then she regarded Var. "Well?"

"Yes, I'll come," he assured, setting Lena down and turning to Swiftpaw. "You'll stay with her?"

"Of course," the young girl promised. "And I'll come fetch you if Lena requests it."

"Thank you," Var said, and he again followed Keeta after taking Will's clothes from Swiftpaw.

Once alone, Var quickly washed and dressed himself in the clean clothing. Then he headed back downstairs, not to eat, but to attend to the only thing more pressing than a hot meal. Crossing from the stairs to the kitchen, Var hoped to corner Hanna before she could escape again. He was well aware that she didn't want to see him, but he wanted to apologize before anything else happened.

She stood at a sink with her back to the door. But she stopped washing dishes as soon as Var passed through the archway, and he knew she knew he was there.

Without turning she said, "Ajh has dinner in the dining room."

Var walked right over beside her and started washing dishes with her. She wouldn't be able to look at him at first anyway. "That's not why I came in here. Hanna, I'm really sorry about being so harsh with you. Both times."

He dried the dish after rinsing it and swallowed the lump in his throat. This would be harder than he thought going into it. But Var grabbed a dirty pot and forced himself to continue, "I know it wasn't your fault. In fact, I know you saved everyone else, including me, on Vroengard. I know you're heartbroken that Zadí and Will died. I know you would have saved them if you could. I'm so sorry I acted so cold and bitter . . . and accusing. I'm just really sorry."

Now, as Hanna had started sobbing, Var also began crying again. "Will you forgive me?" he finished in a broken whisper.

Unable to speak, Hanna nodded and gripped the edge of the sink like she was holding on to avoid collapsing. Var hastily dried his hands and pulled her into an embrace. "Sorry," he muttered. "Sorry I made it so much worse for you. I'm sure you already blamed yourself, like I did."

Hanna squeezed so tightly around his waist that Var realized he had forgotten how strong elves were. He automatically began stroking her long silver hair and felt the paradoxical comfort that came from easing someone else's suffering. He had experienced the same phenomenon with Lena and knew that focusing so much on _his_ grief over Zadí—while ignoring the fact that everyone else mourned along with him—had only intensified it.

He said no more until Hanna calmed down. She stepped away and kept her eyes on the floor, apparently somewhat mortified. "I ruined your clean shirt," she mumbled. Before Var could dismiss it, she magically removed the wetness from her tears.

Hanna then said, "I have something for you." She opened her pouch, rummaged around, and withdrew a small folded cloth. This she rested on her palm and carefully unwrapped to reveal a tiny heart-shaped rock. That's what it looked like to Var. A thin, heart-shaped rock.

Until Hanna turned it over and handed it to him. Var lifted the object for closer examination and felt his eyes widen. A fairth. Hanna had given him a fairth of his little girl as she had appeared to him right after Zadí died, when their spirits had smiled at him and waved goodbye.

"It's for your locket."

Var's heart ached with an odd mix of pain and gratitude. Pain over the reminder of what he had lost, but gratitude for the reminder itself. His daughter was so beautiful. She closely resembled Zadí at the same age but with sparkling gold flecks—from him—in her bright green eyes, just like Zadí had predicted. Her thick black hair tumbled around her face and past her shoulders as if she had been spinning around in a playful dance.

"Izzie," he breathed to the sweet smiling girl in the fairth. "I would have called you Izzie no matter what your mother might have said." Var glanced back at Hanna in awe. "How?"

"I didn't want our friendship to be strained forever so I asked the others for ideas on how I could begin to make amends. Brom suggested this. He told me you had asked for a fairth and showed me the image you shared with him. I made it before we even left Vroengard but kept waiting for what might be the right time to give it to you. I was getting closer. Until today."

"I'm so sorry, Hanna. I know how you hate contention. I wouldn't let anyone in to help. It was stupid. I won't be able to do that this time." Var returned his eyes to the fairth. "Thank you for this. It's perfect." He opened the locket he always wore and clumsily fumbled with the small slate picture.

"Let me," Hanna requested and took over. She quickly fitted the fairth in place with her nimble fingers and handed it to Var. "She's beautiful."

Var nodded his agreement, rendered temporarily speechless by his emotions as he gazed at his deceased wife and daughter. They were both beautiful. He'd never actually met his baby, but he missed them both so much.

Hanna left her hand over his heart and softly sang some words of consolation. "I know it doesn't fix anything, but . . ."

"It helps," Var finished. "Thank you, Hanna. Thank you for your forgiveness and your gift."

Her lovely face was full of sorrow as she raised her hand and wiped away some of his tears. "I'm sorry too, Var. Sorry I wasn't there when you needed me the most. Sorry you lost the people you love more than your life. I'll always regret that I couldn't save them. Maybe I didn't love them as much as you did, but I loved them both. And I'll always miss them."

Var gulped again and blinked a few times. It made no difference. The tears continued.

A sad smile faintly graced Hanna's lips. "I once told Ajh that it's all right to cry. Allowing ourselves to grieve can be the hardest part of healing, but it's necessary."

"Then I'm well on my way," Var sniffled, and somehow both her sadness and smile deepened.

"You'd better go eat and get some rest," Hanna recommended. "Asking forgiveness is sometimes very draining."

"In a good way," Var agreed, feeling lighter now that he had set things right with Hanna. "And Lena said she's physically fine, but some of your magic consolation might help."

Hanna inclined her head. "I'll go to her now. Did she want to eat?"

"She wanted to wash up before considering it."

"I'll take her some dinner just in case," Hanna decided, grabbing a covered platter from the counter.

They exited the kitchen together, then Hanna headed upstairs while Var walked to the dining room.

Ajh had his dinner served, and Var wasted no time starting on it. As it was still hot, he suspected that Brom or Nefin had kept it warm for him, and he once again felt grateful for his friends' consideration and sympathy. He ate in silence for a while, sensing his companions' increasing awkwardness.

So he was the one to begin talking. "Are we setting sail in the morning?"

"Yes," Brom confirmed.

"Are we ready?"

Again Brom affirmed his question, also summarizing the conversation that had taken place prior to Var's arrival.

"Good," Var approved when his friend concluded. "I owe more than only Hanna an apology. I know none of you blame me, but I haven't handled things well the last couple months. I'm sorry for acting like my loss and pain were all that mattered. I may not do much better, but I'll try to be more open to your help. I think it might help to hear happy memories of Zadí and Will. Maybe. We'll see. Thanks for being patient with me. Now I need to get some sleep. Thank you, Ajh. It was amazing, as always."

Ajh acknowledged him by raising his chin as Var stood. Several murmurs of "good night" followed him out of the room.

Var wasn't sure where to sleep, but he knocked on the door where he had left Lena and Swiftpaw to check on them. The werecat opened the door and said, "Lena just asked me to come find you. She hopes you'll sleep in this room with her."

"Mm-hmm," Var granted. "I'll be fine on the floor unless otherwise instructed." He grabbed a pillow from the bed and promptly lay down. It was too hot to want or need a blanket. Hanna slipped out of the room, untouched platter in her hands, and closed the door behind herself.

Already curled up on the bed with several blankets pulled up to her ears, Lena drowsily murmured, "Thank you, Var. Good night."

Well, it must not seem too hot to everyone. Var sensed that she was on the verge of slumber, so he waited a moment before responding. Then, hoping it would provide some sort of reassurance or protection from nightmares, he softly whispered, "Good night, honey," like he knew Will would have.

Within seconds of closing his eyes, Var was asleep.

-:-:-:-

The End of Part Three

* * *

 **A/N (April 6, 2017):** Okay, here's my announcement. This is the end of Part Three. There will be a Part Four to this story. I'm still not sure how long it will be, but this felt like a natural ending point. I could obviously wrap things up in one sentence if I wanted. For example: "They sailed home, restored the Riders, and all lived happily ever after." But I don't want to do that and don't think you want me to either. I want to do the story/characters justice and resolve all of the problems. We still have a major conflict to settle along with some drama to sort out.

But here's the thing. I think I'm gonna take a break from posting new updates for a while as I work on getting a chunk of Part Four written. My reason? I'm some sort of "reader feedback junkie." What I mean by this is that every time I add a new chapter to this story, for the next few days I obsessively check my email and fan fiction account for new reviews. I devote so much energy to hoping and wishing I'll get lots of reviews that it detracts from actually just writing the next stuff. I get that this is super immature and lame, but I can't seem to help it. So maybe if I stop posting for a while, I'll forget about wanting reviews and be able to focus on just writing. My goal is to finish this story by the end of the summer (here in the Northern Hemisphere; in other words, by the end of August), as we plan to start building a house in September and I want to dedicate my time and energy to that.

It therefore might be months and months before you hear from me again. For those of you who care, sorry. Sorry to the guest who thought my updates were forever apart. I hope you're not following any of the stories that don't get updated for six months to a year plus! To the guest who keeps suggesting that young Brom should visit old Brom's grave: duly noted. I'll try to incorporate your wish, but I'm sure you agree that it would be bad timing if Brom randomly announced at this point in the story that he's gonna trek inland for several months to visit his grandpa's grave.

However, I do love reader suggestions. They enrich the story since everyone has a unique perspective and thinks of details I might not. So share away if you have any pressing desires, and I'll do my best to incorporate them if I can find an appropriate place.

The good news here is that once I start posting again, I'll theoretically have dozens of chapters under my belt and should be able to be consistent. I feel like waiting until I have a long section written results in a more well-rounded story. If I think of minor details after the fact, I can simply go back and insert them. I'm also able to include more foreshadowing. So, like Var said, thank you for your patience. Thank you so much for reading my story. Thank you for all of your encouragement along the way. Thank you to those of you who have responded to my PMs and developed little online friendships with me. Thank you to those of you who review each and every time and to those of you who review periodically. As admitted above, I love reading such feedback to the point of obsession. :/

Until next time! ~Autumn :)

P.S. Cool tidbit: This story has now surpassed 70,000 views!

P.P.S. During this interim, I'll probably periodically "bump update" _The Cycle Continues_ listing (by deleting and reposting the last chapter) so new visitors to the site can more easily find it. Please disregard those email notifications if you're following me. I'll also maybe occasionally add a status update to my profile, so check that if you're desperate to keep tabs on my progress. Okay, bye!


	135. Part IV 1 The Shade's Pawn

**PART FOUR**

 **1\. The Shade's Pawn**

"Gerik!" Knut yelled, panic in his voice. "She's coming!"

Gerik jumped to his feet from where he knelt in the dirt and started jogging. "Leave it!" he shouted. "Let's go! Keep running! It's the Shade!"

The other dwarves likewise abandoned their efforts to repair the village they had ravaged and replant some of the townspeople's food. Dozens by dozens, they fell into rank behind him and resumed their endless forced march toward Surda.

Gerik suppressed his fear as the winged monsters soared into view. _Act mindless, like you're still her pawn._ He jogged on, praying she wouldn't pry into their minds this time. _Why wouldn't she? She has every other time. Just for fun. Because she enjoys our pain._

Even when the beasts descended directly in front of the marching army, Gerik didn't stop. He ran off to the right, while his closest friend and second-in-command, Knut, veered left. The horde parted around the flapping Lethrblaka, but Gerik and Knut slowed their pace when the two Ra'zac leaped off the flying steeds and scuttled over to intercept them.

"Halt!" the Shade ordered, and Gerik felt the magical weight of her command fall over them like an anvil. He stumbled as his body instantly obeyed. One Ra'zac seized him by the back of his collar and dragged him to the Shade, where it dropped him in a heap at her feet.

"So you are trying to resist my . . . wishes?" the Shade hissed, a deadly gleam in her eyes. "Again?"

"No, mistress," Gerik droned. Maybe since he had just been running, she wouldn't sense that his pounding heart and sweaty body had anything to do with paralyzing terror. His hopes crumpled as the merciless tendrils of her consciousness pierced into his mind. She would learn the truth about everything for herself.

"You lie. You were repairing the damage you caused. How noble. It appears I left you too long and placed too much faith in my spells. No matter. My strength is fully replenished now. I shall renew the enchantments and . . . ? Yes, precisely. Thank you for the idea. Another demonstration is just what we need."

"No!" Gerik begged, cursing the thought that had crept unbidden into his mind. "Please! We won't do it again. We'll go straight—"

She choked back his words, and he gaped in horror as the two Lethrblaka jabbed down with their sharp beaks and snapped up the two nearest dwarves. Not even time for a scream. Both gone. Knut—not Knut!—and Daren.

"Very good," the Shade sadistically approved. "They were hungry. Dwarves will suffice, though they do prefer humans. We were not as successful as I would have liked with the Urgal army. Too many Kull. The Lethrblaka would not attempt to confront them, and I. . . . Well, perhaps I had best not reveal too much. I secretly think they simply did not want to deal with swallowing their horns. It's a pity, really. I so dearly hoped to try a certain experiment with an Urgal ram. Be grateful, Gerik, that you are as scrawny as you are, else I might have already engaged in this experiment with you."

Gerik didn't even try to comprehend her meaning. _Knut. Knut is gone. My best friend, eaten by a monster. What will I tell his mother? I promised her he would return, that he would be safe._

"You mourn the loss of your friend?" the Shade questioned. Using magic, she forced his chin up and trained his gaze on her ghastly countenance. Her eyebrows arched in feigned innocence over devil eyes, for she knew perfectly well from violating his mind that Gerik was thinking about Knut.

"Friends are important to you," she knowingly went on. "Like many dwarves. I've never understood why you all—humans, dwarves, Urgals, even elves—feel such loyalty for others. What good does it do? Well, I shall oblige you by reuniting you with one of your dearest friends." A malicious sneer twisted her face. "Keeta. Oh yes. You've missed _her_ , haven't you? If you don't hurry, you will not arrive in time for when they stop to resupply. We can't have that." She reached down and lovingly caressed Gerik's face, swirling her fingers through his beard. As she controlled him with her sorcery, he couldn't pull away.

His consuming hatred for this heartless fiend washed over him, but his more dominant emotion was sorrow. And though he gritted his teeth and squinted his eyes to fight them, tears nonetheless trailed down his cheeks.

"Ah, poor Gerik," she mocked. "See what loyalty and love bring? Sadness. Grief. If you never care for anyone or anything, you never lament their demise. Such detachment has served me well." Her thin bloodless lips curled into a cruel smirk, and Gerik felt the vice-like compulsion of her next words. "When you find Keeta, _you will kill her_."

"No," he futilely whispered right before the torment started. And for the next unfathomable span, all Gerik knew was unspeakable agony.

-:-:-

Gerik dragged his eyelids open, fighting the jarring reality of his nightmare. His body felt as heavy as it had after one of the Shade's torture sessions. His stomach was empty. He was filthy and uncomfortable. His heart ached. Not much else could go wrong. But. . . .

He was free.

The Shade was dead.

This truth was enough to ease some of Gerik's woes. At least until the running casualty list resumed. Knut . . . Daren . . . Gregor . . . Hamut . . . and on. And on. How many deaths was he responsible for? Yesterday had added immeasurably to the tally, but Gerik had kept track and identified each of his fallen friends as they matched heads with bodies and encased them in stone.

He rubbed his burning eyes, irritated from stone dust and tears shed. Gerik supposed it should count as a small consolation that he still felt enough emotion to mourn. He remembered what Var had said in the warehouse about hurting so much he couldn't feel anything. At least Gerik wasn't to that stage.

However, more disturbing than the mental inventory of his fallen comrades or that he wasn't too scarred to experience emotional reactions were the _other_ emotions haunting Gerik right now.

Disappointment.

Why disappointment? Because he wouldn't be ordered to mindlessly destroy anymore? Gerik found it exceedingly troubling that he had almost come to _crave_ participating in senseless destruction.

But if he ever murdered again, he no longer had the excuse of being controlled by a purely evil being, and a severe punishment would most likely await him.

Did he _want_ to take another life? Gerik shuddered at the thought, but he entertained it a moment longer out of morbid curiosity. He remembered those he had killed at the Shade's command in the same way he remembered which of his friends had died. He vividly recalled those victims' terror and helplessness, which unavoidably led to _his_ feeling of power and superiority.

Though his hatred of the Shade glowed as fervently as ever, Gerik could honestly admit to understanding her obsession with causing pain and death wherever she went. She had relished the resultant high of strength and dominance.

 _Careful,_ he cautioned. _You're heading down that road. Maybe it's good Master Eragon advised you to return home with the others. They're always so_ perfect. _You could benefit from that positive influence._

This he thought with a healthy dose of sarcasm. He impatiently shifted on the rough rocky ground of the quarry, which his threadbare blanket hardly cushioned, and an unfamiliar clattering sound distracted him. Another negative emotion surfaced as his hand found the velvet drawstring pouch and he remembered the previous day's events.

Inadequacy.

Why had Rhunön asked him to continue her legacy? Why Gerik, of all people? He wasn't worthy. He wasn't skilled enough. She was the one elf every dwarf revered as highly as any of their own royalty. How they would mock him when they learned of her request.

After pulling it from his pocket, Gerik fidgeted with the bag of precious stones Rhunön had bequeathed him. He opened the drawstring ties and dumped its contents on his blanket. Though the predawn light was dim, countless multicolored jewels glittered up at him. Emeralds, rubies, diamonds, sapphires, and dozens of others Gerik knew by heart and could specifically name. For a dwarf such a skill was second-nature.

Gerik hastily scooped the gems back into their safe hiding place, suddenly suspicious another dwarf might spot them and try to take them. Should he run with them? A collection like this was worth a fortune. Gerik could comfortably live for the rest of his life with these stones. . . . Or could he? He was an immortal Dragon Rider, or would be if the others successfully reinstated the pact.

And then what? His bond with Arûna would reform and she would come looking for him. Would she, his greatest blessing, want to be bonded with a common thief and coward? Why had she even chosen him? The pang of loss and sadness he felt upon thinking of his closest friend only intensified the inadequacy, and a third destructive emotion clawed at his heart.

Resentment.

It irked Gerik that Eragon had ordered him to return to the Isle when he felt that his rightful place was with the dwarven army. Though he hadn't managed to keep them from all manner of folly, they had endured unspeakable heartache and hardship together. Not only that, Gerik owed the many people he had mistreated some sort of restitution. And Knut's mother deserved to hear from him how her son had died—because of Gerik's ineptness. How could the youth on the ship possibly begin to understand?

 _They lost Will,_ the nobler part of him stubbornly reminded.

 _So what?_ his flippant self countered. _I lost_ dozens _of my best friends! And being around Keeta isn't going to help in any way. Of_ course _Nefin succeeded in winning her! No one else was around to give him any competition!_

The torrent of negativity Gerik seemed unable to combat in his depressed state swelled as the most powerful undesirable emotion of all gripped him.

Jealousy.

Oh how he envied Nefin. Never mind that Gerik now understood Nefin's dilemma in Ellesméra better than ever. At the time, Gerik had been condescending and condemning. He had thought he would never hurt Keeta like Nefin had.

And then he ended up almost killing her.

Was it some kind of karmic punishment? By being unsympathetic, had Gerik somehow attracted his fate? What he wouldn't give now for his crimes to be nothing worse than some passionate kissing in the arms of a beautiful elf.

But no, Gerik knew the nature of compulsory behavior more intimately than anyone should, and he could look back on the incident in Ellesméra with compassion. Yet it didn't change his feelings toward Nefin.

Generally speaking, dwarves viewed their race with loyalty and pride. It was nearly unheard of for a knurla to compare himself with a whimsical, flighty elf. After all, dwarves were the first inhabitants of Alagaёsia, and they never forgot it. So it was uncommon for Gerik to feel as he did and only added to his discomfiture.

Unlike Keeta, he hadn't grown up surrounded by peers from all the races. Joining their ranks as a Dragon Rider hadn't helped him integrate into their circle of friendship, and yet this very circumstance was also partly responsible for his reluctant respect of Nefin.

Gerik had gotten to know the elf. Not only was he unbelievably good-looking—anyone would agree, male or female—but after seeing all his strengths and goodness, Gerik almost couldn't help but admire him. It was no wonder Keeta did too.

And now they were married.

As Gerik's mind wandered to all _that_ would entail—his envy and bitterness ever increasing—someone demanded his attention by speaking his name. He flushed awkwardly when he realized that his unpleasant musings had wholly occupied him from the time he had awakened from his nightmare and had caused him to be oblivious to his surroundings. He clumsily shook off his blanket and staggered to his feet, tightly clutching the velvet pouch around the handle of his axe and smoothing his matted hair and beard with the other hand. Neither he nor any of the other dwarves had taken the time to clean up yesterday, for all of their time went toward tending to their dead. Gerik was still covered in the grime of his involuntary travels, the gore of battle, and a coating of stone dust from so many burials.

His mortification deepened as he focused on the person in front of him and found himself studying Hanna's . . . chest, which was at his eye level. Grateful his beard hid most of the outward evidence of his humiliation, Gerik hastily glanced up to her face and felt even more acutely how filthy and disheveled he was. By comparison, she appeared as an angel straight from heaven—her fair skin clean and glowing, her silver hair shimmering and flowing, and her dark brown eyes grave and sparkling.

Since he had only just been thinking about an elf and dwarf involved in . . . ahem, married people activities, and since Hanna was undoubtedly as beautiful as her brother—if not more so—he struggled for a moment to compose himself enough to appropriately respond. Whereupon he lamely said:

"Sorry. I missed that. What did you say?"

Hanna's forehead creased in concern, which accentuated the slanted angle of her silver eyebrows, and she repeated in flawless Dwarvish, "Ajh and I prepared enough breakfast back at the inn for you and your companions to join us. Would you care to?"

The fascinating manner in which Hanna's deep brown eyes appeared to capture light and then reflect it back mesmerized Gerik, and he found himself unable to focus on her words. He dropped his eyes in embarrassment that he had been gazing into hers in such a way and nervously jiggled the pouch of gemstones.

His silence further worried her, and she anxiously added, "Or is it too soon for you to consider eating again? I'm sorry I'm not more familiar with dwarven mourning rituals. I'm so sorry for all you must have been through. Oh, but we thought you being there when we scry our parents on the Isle might be helpful since we really don't know about what happened to you. They'll probably want a report. . . ." She trailed off and bit her lip as she seemed to decide she was rambling and shouldn't.

"How did you get here?" Gerik voiced the completely irrelevant first thought in his mind.

Confusion clouded Hanna's features. "I ran."

 _Naturally,_ Gerik ironically thought, but not without a touch of admiration. _Because elves can run like the wind._

"And what time is it?"

"Um, I'm not certain. Perhaps just before six. It's nearly sunrise."

"I can tell. Why are you up so early?"

Her angelic countenance ever more troubled, Hanna answered, "To help Ajh. I actually didn't sleep much. Elves don't need to, but I couldn't because of the . . ."

"Nightmares?" Gerik sardonically supplied.

"Yes," she whispered, glancing away.

When Gerik simply stood in stony silence, not wanting anyone to commiserate with, Hanna eventually looked back at his face.

"Gerik, are you well? Oh, how insensitive of me! Of course you're not well. Not after being the Shade's pawn and losing so many friends. How can I help? I can heal any physical injury or ease emotional suffering."

"I'm probably beyond help," Gerik bitterly muttered, switching to the common tongue. Her perfect command of his native language and her choice to use it instead of the alternatives struck him as unwelcome pity. "I don't want your help, pretty elf. Run back to your friends. We'll come along as we're able. 'Twould be a shame to waste all that food."

Her dejected expression twitched as she fought to restrain tears, and Hanna reasonably said, "Very well. I'll let them know. We plan to set sail in two hours' time." A crystal teardrop glinted at the corner of one angled eye as she spun about and raced away as quickly as she must have arrived.

Gerik had thought jealousy the strongest emotion of the morning, but as Hanna's silver hair disappeared from view, a wave of shame forced him to his knees. Remorse not only for how he had treated the gentle healer when she only wanted to help, but for everything. _Everything._

Regret that he was so weak he hadn't been able to resist the Shade's coercive measures. _The Shade's pawn._

Guilt for _all_ he had done at her command—stealing, pillaging, vandalizing, maiming, raping, and killing. He would never forget, as long as he lived.

For almost killing Keeta.

For being a waste of a Dragon Rider.

 _I'm a horrible person. I don't deserve to live_.

Abruptly he knew why he needed to be on the ship. Before he went off and did something irreversible, Gerik started rousing those of his companions who weren't already up and informed them that breakfast was ready at the Seaside Inn.

-:-:-:-

* * *

 **A/N (December 27, 2017):** Hello! It's been eight months! I'm taking a deep breath as I prepare to post this! I've only finished writing about a dozen chapters of Part Four, and I can't guarantee that updating the story now means that I will be updating it regularly from here until the end. But I feel sorry for making everyone wait so long and this first chapter hasn't changed in all the months since I've written it, so I feel somewhat safe about sharing it. Please understand if I decide to wait another little while before adding Chapter 2. Happy holidays to everyone! I hope to hear from some of you! ~Autumn :)


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